To Love A Southerner
by arwenforlife
Summary: Miss Mercedes Jones is well weary of teaching, so when she inherits half of a 'hotel' in Texas, she eagerly heads out there, only to discover it's a house of ill repute. Her new co-owner, Sam Evans doesn't intend to change anything and there starts a battle-of-the-sexes, between the prim and proper Miss Jones and the shrewdest gambler in Texas.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey there, this story is based on the book 'To Love A Texan' by Georgina Gentry. In the book, the story is set in 1880, but I can't decide if to leave it like that or not. Obviously, there are many things to take into consideration, race being the most prominent. I've tried modernizing it as best as I could, however, if I feel it's not running as smooth as I'd like, I'll take it back to 1880. **

**Thank you for your continued support and I invite you to give it a try...read with an opened mind. Sam and Mercedes are a bit out of character here. **

**I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own 'To Love A Texan' Georgina Gentry does. **

**I don't know anything really, about Nacogdoches. I just like the name.**

* * *

_**The town of Nacogdoches, Texas. Population 36 614**_

They were burying Sue Sylvester today and it was the biggest funeral this east Texas town has ever seen.

It could've been bigger and would've been bigger, Sam Evans thought, if the local men hadn't been so chicken-livered and scared of their wives, to attend.

So here he stood, in the graveyard with whores, card dealers, Carmen, the part Hispanic, part black, cook/housekeeper, a billy-goat named Sherwin and most of the single men of the town, plus cowboys from all over the county, paying their last respects to a woman, who'd put the name of the town on the map.

Reverend Lovejoy was conducting the service, although his congregation might have something to say to him, next Sunday.

It was one thing to talk about redeeming the lowly and quite another to preach a respectable sermon, for the biggest Madam in the Lone Star state.

* * *

It was a warm day.

Sam sighed and shifted the goat's leash, to his other hand, so he could wave away a fly.

He really missed Sue. She was a great old gal.

Reverend Lovejoy droned on and on, trying to find nice things to say about the sudden death of the owner, well, half owner, of the most successful 'hotel' in the county.

Because of Sue's generosity in letting him buy in, Sam owned half the Texas Lily.

* * *

The Reverend motioned for Sue's 'girls' to come forward and sing.

Unfortunately, a few knew the words to the hymns, while some didn't, so they rendered an off-key chorus of _'Hark the Herald Angels Sing.'_

Since it was nearing spring, it wasn't appropriate, but, whilst Sue was good-hearted and generous, she wasn't an angel.

* * *

Reverend Lovejoy said a final prayer and Sam reached down to pat Sherwin, who was now chewing the edge of his frock coat.

"Reverend," a lawyer by the name of Will Shuester spoke up. "I wanted to inform all of Sue's employees, that in her will, she's left each of you, one thousand dollars, so you won't have to work the day of her funeral."

The customers, meaning the single men there, moaned, but the girls squealed in delight.

"Now ain't that thoughtful!" a guy by the name of Noah 'Puck' Puckerman, sarcastically said. And Sam snickered.

The preacher flushed and cleared his throat.

Mr. Shuester walked over and put his hand on the preacher's shoulder, lowering his voice,

"And there's five thousand dollars for the church." The preacher nodded his grey unkempt head and said,

"I don't know if my congregation…"

"I'll see that it is anonymous," the lawyer assured him. "You know Sue was always generous with her money, covering everything from scholarships to charities and everything in between."

Reverend Lovejoy nodded in agreement.

* * *

Sam started to walk away, still leading the goat, but Mr. Shuester caught his arm.

"I need to see you and Carmen in my office."

"Sure," Sam replied, brushing his hair back from his eyes, and then handing the leash to one of the girls.

"I believe you girls can walk back to the hotel," he said, nodding towards the establishment, on a little rise at the end of the street.

"Carmen, let's go to Mr. Shuester's office." The wrinkled old cook/housekeeper nodded and wiped her eyes.

"Mr. Sam, it just don't seem real that she's gone."

_'Sue's gone all right,' _Sam thought with a sigh.

She was gone when she fell over that rail of the open balcony, last Saturday night…landing on a billiard table, breaking one of its legs off.

"Yep, she was one in a million."

He took Carmen by the arm, and helped her into his fancy car, looking back at the small graveyard, at the edge of the town. The grave was now covered with Texas bluebonnets, because the common orange day-lilies Sue loved so much, weren't that plentiful. With a loud exhale, he drove off and headed for the lawyer's office.

* * *

In Mr. Shuester's office, the two settled into chairs, in front of the dusty, cluttered desk.

Sam leaned back with a sigh and looked up at the ceiling. He was feeling older than his twenty-nine years all of a sudden, probably because, they had buried Sue, today.

He had really cared about her.

She was old enough to be his mother and sometimes he thought of her that way.

She had taken him in and given him a fresh start, three years ago.

He'd been just another drifting gambler and sometimes guitar-singing 'pretty-boy', like his younger brother, Stevie.

Will cleared his throat and shuffled papers, as he settled behind his desk.

"Sue Sylvester was one woman in a thousand. Too bad we know so little about her or where she came from." He looked at Carmen.

"I heard you've been with her, at least twenty-five years."

"Yes. She rescued me from a rich slave-driver, back in Atlanta," Carmen said and wiped her eyes. She went on. "There wasn't nothin' I wouldn't do for Miss Sue."

Sam looked at her and it dawned on him, she had to know Sue pretty well.

"So, you probably know more about her than anyone else," he said, hopeful. She gave him a steely look.

"Not that much. There are some things she didn't want people to know." Sam shrugged.

_'What did the past matter,' _he mused internally.

Mr. Shuester shuffled the papers and said,

"Here's the will…you two are mentioned."

"Us?" both asked, surprised. Mr. Shuester ran his hand through his full head of hair, nodded and began to read:

_**"I Sue Sylvester, being of sound mind, do make this my last will and testament. I bequeath the employees of the Texas Lily, one thousand dollars each, so they can party, instead of work, on the night of my funeral." **_Sam laughed.

"That sounds like Sue, alright." The lawyer went on.

"She left the church five thousand dollars and a little, here and there, to other charities, but that's just for your ears, not your lips. This part's for you Carmen…"

_**"For my good and faithful cook/housekeeper and friend, I leave twenty-five thousand dollars…" **_

"Twenty-five thousand dollars!" Carmen said, her mouth falling open.

"Yep. You've got a nice nest egg there, Carmen. The money's in my safe. You can retire and not work another day in your life."

"Humph!" The old woman said, wrinkling her nose. "And just what would I do with my time, then? If Mr. Sam don't mind, I'd like to save that money and keep workin' at the hotel."

"Sure. That's fine by me," Sam grinned. "I don't know how I could run the place without you, anyway." The old woman stood up and brushed her rumpled black dress.

"Then, if'fen you're through with me, I want to inspect Miss Sue's grave and make sure the flowers are just right, then I got to get a roast in the oven. Folks got to eat, funeral or no."

Sam stood up and opened the door for Carmen.

"You can take my car. I'll walk back after I'm finished here," he said, offering her the keys. She gratefully took them, nodded and left.

* * *

Sam returned to his chair and sat again.

Will Shuester walked over to a table in the corner, picked up a bottle of bourbon and two glasses, and returned to his desk.

"We've lost a great woman in Sue Sylvester. Let's drink to her." He poured the drinks.

"She saved me from possibly a life of crime or worse. I'm gonna miss her," Sam said and took his glass and clinked it with Will's.

"She built the Texas Lily, into the best hotel, bar, and gamblin' hall…in east Texas. My life in Tennessee could never compare to the one I have here," he went on to say.

"She could get under my skin, call me butt-chin from sun-up to sun-down…but she was still a great woman and this town is poorer without her," Will said, clinking his glass to Sam's again.

"So true. But she was a shrewd business-woman and a successful business-woman at that."

"You had something to do with the success of the business," Will reminded him. "As good as you play poker. Anyway, she left you something as well."

He looked at Sam, over his own glass of bourbon.

"I expected that someday, but not yet. After all. I don't reckon she's got a relative in this world. At least, she's never mentioned it. I don't even know if she was ever married, or where she came from. She never talked about her past, but then, I didn't know her as well as Carmen did," Sam said. And then,

"I suppose, we should let her past die with her." Will frowned and placed his glass down on the desk.

"Uh…Sam, she's left you two things," he said.

_'I bet one is, her half of the business. Hell, I'd rather have her back, any day,' _Sam thought to himself.

Never in his wildest dreams, did he imagine her dying in such an unexpected accident.

"Actually, she's left you three things." Will studied the papers before him. "One is the goat. You're to look after her beloved pet, Sherwin." Sam smiled.

"That smelly old billy-goat, will probably out-live me. All he's good for, is to chew up the day-lilies growin' out front of the house."

"And she's left you money...fifty thousand dollars and ten thousand in gold bars. It's in my safe. She never had much faith in banks."

"I know that. There's a rumor around town, that she hid her profits in the walls of the hotel," Sam said. Will shrugged and smiled.

"I believe that's just a local tale…or maybe…she did. But she didn't tell me. Also, she's left you that big fancy birdbath, at the front of the Lily…the one in the center flowerbed."

* * *

Sam nodded.

He really didn't care about the birdbath, although he knew that Sue had set a great deal of store by it.

She'd bought it on one of her random trips out of town and put it among some of her favorite flowers, in the middle of the Lily's front lawn.

Even now, as he's sitting in Will's office, he could close his eyes and see her, in that visor she always wore, to protect her eyes from the Texas sun.

Sometimes, she liked to be out at dawn or dusk, gardening and planting flowers, while the goat munched grass peacefully, beside her.

His mind went over what Will had just said.

"Uh…Will, you said three things." Will fiddled with the papers, a little nervously.

"That's three, ain't it?" Sam began to get a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"What about the business?" he asked. Lawyer Shuester took a deep gulp of his drink.

"That's the hardest to explain, Sam."

"Try."

Will shrugged and read aloud from the papers in front of him.

_**"I leave my half of the Texas Lily, to my God niece, Mercedes Jones, a music and etiquette teacher at MC. Kinley High, Lima, Ohio, along with fifty thousand dollars." **_

"What?" Sam said, as he half rose from his chair and stared Will down.

"Now, take it easy, Sam, there's more…"

_**"Since I'm certain Mercedes will not be interested in this property, I suggest my partner Sam Evans, offer my God niece twenty thousand dollars for her half, out of what I've left for him, thus making him, sole owner."**_

* * *

Sam felt as though he'd been punched in the gut.

"Well I'll be damned. A niece and a respectable schoolteacher at that. Hell, I didn't even know she had any family…rather, anyone so close as to call a relative."

Mr. Shuester, pondered Sam's words for a few seconds.

"Hmm…I reckon there's a lot we didn't know about Sue, even though she's lived here for more than twenty years."

"I don't know whether to be insulted or not, that she didn't left me the business. Why do you think she didn't deed me the business, and tell me to send her niece the twenty thousand?"

"I don't know, Sam. There has to be a reason. Maybe she knew you too well and wanted to make sure the girl really got the money."

Will chuckled and raised his hands defensively.

"Not funny. Anyway, I ain't that slick, even though I used to be. And I'm not that kind of a guy. I've been using my share of the profits to buy some land between here and Beaumont. I'm thinking of raising cattle in my old age," Sam said. Will nodded.

"So, it's simple. I'll write this God niece a letter and tell her about the deal, only I'll spare her knowing what the Lily really is." Sam had a sudden chilling thought.

"Suppose this girl won't take it and tries to hold me up for more money?"

"An 'old maid' teacher from Lima?" Will snorted and went on, "Why, she'll jump at the chance to sell a property she's never seen. I'll write an official letter for you. I believe by late May, you'll own the Texas Lily outright, without ever having to meet this lady."

Sam heaved a sigh of relief and drained his glass. He stood up, set the tumbler on the edge of the desk and said,

"I'm getting upset for nothin'. You just go ahead and do that. And let me know when you hear from her."

* * *

He opened the door and stood looking out, mumbling under his breath.

He was more than a little annoyed with Sue, for not trusting him to do the right thing by her niece. And it's not as if Sue didn't know him…and pretty damn well, too.

"The money is alright…but a damn goat and a bird bath. If that doesn't beat all," he grumbled to himself.

"Oh! One more thing," Will called out, just as Sam stepped through the door. "I almost forgot. Miss Sue said there was a box of stuff that's up on the top shelf of her closet. She said Carmen would know what to do. Will you please tell her?"

"Sure, sure," Sam said. He was only half listening, as he closed the door and started down the sidewalk.

He had to admit to himself, that something good had still come out of the meeting.

He wouldn't have to borrow to pay the old maid niece twenty thousand dollars. The business was a profitable one and he could soon be a rich man, once he owned it outright.

But he felt slighted and insulted.

He thought Sue had more affection for him than that.

Oh, well, he internalized, he was a helluva lot better off now, than the poor white trash way he'd grown up. That thought cheered him, as he started walking towards the hotel on the hill, at the end of the street.

* * *

**How was it? Yay or nay? Tell me everything. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for your continued support, it is very much appreciated. Happy Valentines Day to you and yours!**

**Standard disclosure.**

* * *

**_MC. Kinley High, Lima, Ohio._**

Mercedes Jones sat in her small, sparse office and re-read the lawyer's letter, as she poured herself a cup of tea.

She felt a little sad, at the news of the death of her mother's 'younger sister' and only living relative…which means now, Mercedes was truly alone in the world.

But then, she had only seen her God-aunt, only a few times as a child and a couple times as an adult.

There seemed to be tension at the time, between her strict widowed mother and 'Aunt Sue', so she decided to keep her distance, for peace sake.

* * *

Just yesterday, she received notice from the Lima bank, that the monthly stipends that had been arriving for the last ten years, would be coming to an end.

Her titled father's estate was exhausted, no doubt. It had been a God-send in helping Mercedes and her sickly mother to live comfortably.

Since her mother's death, she's been helping to pay impoverished kids' tuition, by living frugally.

And now, this morning, this letter had come from Texas, with hope of good news.

Did she dare add sugar to her tea? A simple thought, but it was not a luxury Mercedes allowed herself often, nor jam for her toast.

As a teacher, she could just hold her head above water and she spent every extra penny she had, helping poor, talented students, as she had been helped, with a scholarship.

Yet, according to this letter, she could now afford to splurge.

The three students she was aiding at the moment, would graduate next month, ending that expense.

* * *

Fifty thousand dollars was hers, and another twenty thousand, when or if, she signed over her share of the hotel.

She would be a woman of considerate means.

Brushing a wisp of dark hair back, into her tight bun, Mercedes went to the window and looked out at the kids crossing the lawns of the high school.

She had hoped for a husband and children of her own, but it looked like that was not to be.

In the few years since she'd graduated, when she might have met a nice young man, she was busy nursing her sick mother, so there was no time for socializing.

Besides, as her mother had so often pointed out, she was short, thick and curvy and very plain to look at, with undignified freckles across her nose, for someone 'dark'.

* * *

At twenty-eight, she had long since stopped hoping…although one student's father had once hinted, that he could be very generous for a little warmth…wink, wink.

She had stopped him in his tracks, with a frosty stare and he never approached her again.

* * *

Her mother and 'Aunt Sue' had both been two very pretty women.

Mercedes always thought, they were prettier than her.

Perhaps she'd taken after her highborn father, whose ship had been lost at sea, before she was born.

* * *

Outside, spring was still weeks away and she wondered what Texas was really like.

_'Warm, most certainly. A vast place of cows, cowboys and savages…according to the books I've read…certainly more interesting and challenging, than spending year after year just teaching…' _

A cool wind blew through the building, interrupting her thoughts and she shivered.

What to do, was the question foremost in her mind.

She now owned half a hotel…or something like it. Doesn't matter. Should she take the money and stay in Lima? Or should she be daring?

When she thought about it, she'd never really done anything daring in her life.

Her strict mother would've frowned on anything that wasn't highly respectable.

She's been gone now, five years, but still manages to be impactful in Mercedes' life.

* * *

Mercedes hadn't written 'Aunt Sue' when her mother had died, honestly, she wasn't that sure where to find her.

In this day of technology, it was still difficult to track down a person, especially when you have meagre means to do so.

Her guess, 'Aunt Sue' was going by an alias. Maybe she was wrong, but that is what she believed.

But Texas sounded full of possibilities and it was, for all intents and purposes, a change from her mundane life in Lima.

Right then and there, she made a decision. She would go to Nacogdoches and see this business for herself, before deciding whether to sell or not.

After all, her 'aunt' had also left her fifty thousand dollars and school would be out soon.

If she decided she didn't like Texas, she could always sell out to her aunt's partner and be back in Lima in time for fall classes.

She needed to email this lawyer and let him know she was coming.

* * *

**_Late May, the train station in Nacogdoches_**

It was sundown on a warm Saturday evening, as Mercedes stepped off the train.

Why she opted to ride, instead of fly, she didn't know.

The weather was so hot, she regretted wearing the dark jersey dress and leggings she currently had on.

She stood there, holding her suitcases and looking around. It was about supper time and there weren't many people about.

The town looked to be a prosperous one, with many shops up and down the main street.

Behind her, the train whistled a warning and then began to puff and hiss, as it started out of town.

She had a sudden impulse to run after it, get back on it, and return to the safe, secure life she knew so well.

_'Nothing ventured, nothing gained,' _she thought, reminding herself.

She straightened her shoulders as she looked around, wondering where she could find a car rental.

In her haste, she'd forgotten all about it. But of course, a hotel should be right in the heart of town.

* * *

A mature woman with a little boy in tow, came out of a shop and walked passed her.

"Excuse me. Could you direct me to the Texas Lily?" The woman stopped in her tracks and glared at her.

"How dare you!" Mercedes was taken aback.

"I beg your pardon?" She blinked in confusion and stepped back, but the woman only huffed and strode on, almost dragging the little boy.

* * *

A young army Lieutenant, had just stepped out of a nearby store on the corner and looked at her strangely.

He was handsome, but short, with brown hair and a thin wispy mustache.

"Excuse me, ma'am." He took off his hat and bowed, surprising her. "Perhaps she misunderstood what you've asked."

"I don't know why she was so upset. I'm new in town and I was looking for the Texas Lily."

"Allow me to introduce myself. "I'm Lieutenant Buford Fortenbury and I can tell by your accent, you're definitely not from around here."

"Hardly," Mercedes spat. "That's what I said before. Anyway, my name is Mercedes Jones and I'm from Lima, Ohio and I'm looking for the Texas Lily."

"Indeed."

First, he looked confused, then mystified, as his pale face turned a rosy red hue.

"And, may I ask, what business a lady would have…" He was unceremoniously cut off by a put-out Mercedes Jones.

"No, you may not!" she snapped and then regretted her peevishness.

Her mother would be so horrified at her behavior. This officer was obviously attempting to be of service, but she was weary, hot and a little cross, now that darkness had fallen.

"Sir, I'm sorry. If you would kindly direct me to the Texas Lily, I would appreciate it."

"You could have fooled me, you know that?" the Lieutenant winked at her. "You don't look like the type Sam Evans hires to…" He stopped, suddenly.

"To what?" Mercedes asked, drawing herself up to her full height, which, sadly didn't even match the Lieutenant's.

"For your information sir, I am the new half-owner of the Texas Lily."

"The Lily?" He looked blank, then smiled. "My abject apologies, Miss Jones." He bowed again. "I was just running some errands for Major Figgins, so I have his car. Please allow me to drive you to the establishment." Mercedes smiled with relief.

"You know my aunt's place?"

"Your aunt?" He took her suitcase and her elbow, and they walked towards the car. "Sue Sylvester was your aunt?" Mercedes nodded, as he helped her into the car.

"Not by blood and I haven't seen her in years."

"Really?" He took his seat next to her and smiled, as he buckled his seat belt. Mercedes began to warm up to him.

"Yes. What kind of town is this, anyway?" she asked. He gave her a weak smile.

"A prosperous one, with a fort…well…Old Stone Fort Museum, and ranches all around. But the people here are really country bumpkins…most of them and worse yet…they're all Texans. I'm hoping for a transfer soon, to Washington, D.C."

"Hmm. Tell me about the Texas Lily. Does it do good business?" The Lieutenant made a choking sound.

"I…I really wouldn't know."

"Where is it, anyway?"

"It's just up ahead. That big building right up on the hill, at the end of this street, is the Texas Lily."

"Oh, wow!" Mercedes breathed, as they came to a stop in front of it.

* * *

The Texas Lily stood three stories in the air. It looked like a Victorian mansion from back in the nineteenth century, complete with turrets and a gingerbread trim.

A horseshoe-shaped drive, encircled a large lawn and flowerbeds of common orange day-lilies, centering around a big birdbath.

Lights streamed from all the windows, it seemed, and there were many cars dotted about the property.

"It seems to be doing a landslide business," a naive Mercedes said. The Lieutenant blanched, but schooled his features and replied,

"It always does on Saturday night…or so I've been told." He helped her out of the vehicle and walked up to the ornate stained-glass front doors.

"Is that a goat among the day-lilies?" she asked, blinking, not quite sure of what she had seen.

"Oh, that's Sherwin, the billy goat. He was Sue's pet." The goat glared at them, waggled his grey beard and returned to munching the day-lilies.

"I thought all billy goats were always named Billy." The officer laughed.

"This one is named for the fort's founder…I understand there's a resemblance." Mercedes chuckled. From inside, came the sound of laughter and music.

"Wow! They seem to be having a good time," she said.

"They usually do. Miss Jones, I think you should know…"

"Yes?"

"Never mind." He turned to go, and Mercedes asked,

"Aren't you coming in?" He shook his head from side to side.

"I…I think I should wait for you in the car."

"Oh... why? I'll be staying, since I'm now half owner." He hesitated again.

"Miss Jones, about the Texas Lily…"

"What?"

He hesitated again.

Mercedes began to feel a bit miffed at him, thinking him rude, for stopping and starting and not escorting her into the building like a proper gentleman should.

She turned away, realizing he wasn't going to answer her, and rang the doorbell.

* * *

She could hear loud music and men talking. Somewhere on the inside, a woman laughed, a little too un-ladylike for her.

Mercedes' limited experience with hotels, B&B's and such like, made her puzzled over the racket, but, she'd heard Texans were rowdy by nature.

Her thoughts drifted to the other owner.

_'Probably some old Texas rancher, or maybe a back-east hotel man…or, at the very least, an Irish man.' _

She wrinkled her nose. Her mother had often told her, Irish men were vulgar and low-class.

She heard footsteps and then a frail Hispanic woman, in a maid's uniform, opened the door.

The smell of cigar smoke enveloped them both, and behind the woman, Mercedes could see crowds of men and girls...dressed in short, gaudy outfits.

"What in the name of God is going on here?"

"Who is you, lady?" the elderly woman asked.

Mercedes pushed passed her into the hallway. She was immediately thrown into a tail-spin, as she was seemingly transported into an early nineteenth century saloon.

* * *

The inside was as large as a ballroom, with an open balcony, overlooking the room.

The drapes were red velvet and through the swirl of cigar smoke, she saw men at tables playing cards or leaning against an ornate bar.

In the background, an off-key piano banged away at _Buffalo Gals_.

Mercedes couldn't understand the kind of behavior that was taking place in her 'aunt's' fine establishment.

She marched into the room and stood looking around, confused and outraged.

As the raucous crowd noticed her, they moved and quietened, waiting to see what would happen.

* * *

Sam was feeling really good tonight.

It was about time his luck changed.

In his hand, he held a royal flush. He hadn't had one since the night Sue Sylvester crashed through that railing and came sailing off that balcony, landing on the billiard table.

Yep, his luck was running wild tonight.

Just as he was about to bet, he realized the room was growing quiet and heads were turning towards the door.

The music quit mid-note. _'_

_What the hell…' _

Sam frowned, as he craned his neck to see what the distraction was.

A short, thick, curvy girl, stood in the middle of the entry, and now, she was marching into the room like a warship under full sail and ready for battle.

Her hair was dark, almost like black velvet, pulled into a tight bun, making her look as stiff as a poker.

Her no-nonsense face, with a few freckles scattered over her nose, was frowning.

This was a respectable lady, there was no doubt about it.

But, just what was she doing in a place like this?

The silence was deafening, as everyone turned to look at her.

"I demand to see Mr. Sam Evans," she said, in a strange accent, that could cut glass with its sharpness.

Uh-oh! This couldn't be good.

Sam stood up from the poker table with a sigh and turned his hand upside-down on the table.

"Anybody touch my cards before I get back, I'll make him eat my fist," he drawled and then stepped forwards to greet the lady.

"Sam Evans at your service, ma'am." He made a sweeping bow. "And to whom do I have the honor of…"

"What is the meaning of all these…shenanigans? This is no way to run a hotel. It must stop immediately."

"What?"

Sam was seldom at a loss for words, but any man would wither under the glare of those cold brown eyes.

"Mr. Evans," she snapped. "I am your new partner. I am Mercedes Jones."

Oh, hell! His luck just ran out.

* * *

**That's it for this chapter. I hope it was good enough.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for your continued support. I feel honored.**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

Sam Evans managed to close his mouth and made a sweeping bow.

"I'm sorry, Miss Jones, we weren't expecting you."

"Evidently," she said.

She glared at him, although she had to look up to do so. He was tall and wide-shouldered. Dressed in dark jeans, a green tee, with a green plaid short-sleeve shirt over it.

His blonde hair fell over one eye, as he bowed low and his green eyes issued both a challenge and an invitation.

There was something very primitive and very male about him, that made her take a step back.

He had to be one of those Irish rogues her mother had warned her about, no doubt about it, she thought.

"We're gonna need to make some changes. This is no way to run a hotel," she spat.

Around them, men had gathered out of curiosity, and now, a chuckle ran through the crowd.

Mercedes saw nothing funny at all.

A blonde girl in a red satin dress, that was both too short and too tight, swaggered up, swinging her hips. She held a slender cigarette in her hand and smoke encircled her head.

Mercedes could only stare.

She hated to see women smoke.

"Sam, honey," the blonde started, with a sneer on her face. "What's the problem?"

She placed her hand on his broad shoulder, a bit too familiarly, which annoyed Mercedes, although she wasn't sure why.

She glared at the woman.

"This doesn't concern you," she said.

"Why, you…" the blonde started, but Sam caught her arm and said to her,

"Now Quinn, there's been a misunderstanding here. Miss Jones, I think we need to retire to my office and…"

"You've been drinking," Mercedes snapped, cutting Sam off, as she took a sniff of the blonde.

She was acutely aware that she was surrounded by a type of people, she'd never met before, in her very sheltered life. They all looked like rowdies.

"Worse yet, you reek of cheap perfume!" she finished, staring the woman down.

"That ain't cheap perfume!" the blonde put her hand on her hip. "A customer brung that for me, all the way from St. Louie."

"Brought," Mercedes corrected.

"What?" Quinn looked bewildered. Mercedes decided she'd had enough of this nonsense.

"Mr. Evans, I will see you in the lawyer's office in the morning."

"What?" he asked, scratching his head.

"You heard me." She turned to go.

"Tomorrow's Sunday," he said, his eyes twinkling with mirth. He gave her a devilish grin. The crowd laughed and Mercedes felt foolish.

"Then, I shall return Monday, with the lawyer."

She wheeled and held her head high, as she marched out of the Texas Lily. She was close to tears, but anyone with a good background, did not give way to emotion.

Hadn't her dour, cold mother taught her that? But, she was shocked, horrified and downright exhausted, after her long trip.

All her dreams about Texas and a fine hotel, went out the window, when she discovered what she had inherited.

It was obviously a…a…she couldn't even think the word, much less speak it.

And from her own aunt.

She blinked and swallowed hard, as she went out the door and down the steps, into the darkening evening.

_'Now I know what that tension was all about, between my mother and Aunt Sue,' _she thought.

* * *

The Lieutenant hurried to meet her.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Jones. I didn't know how to tell you," he said.

"I'll be fine."

She managed to keep her voice steady, but inside, she was a wreck.

She imagined that pretty Quinn creature, snickering at her, even now.

Is this what she had given up a safe, secure job in Lima for?

"Take me to another hotel. I'll decide what to do later." The Lieutenant helped her into the car, his delicate hands moist.

"I'll have to take you to the nearest motel. I'm sorry, but the nicest hotel burned down last month."

* * *

As they drove away, she looked back over her shoulder, at the lights and music streaming from the Texas Lily.

"I had no idea about this place. I was told it was a fine hotel."

"I didn't know how to warn you, Miss Jones. I never go in there myself…it's full of rough louts, typical Texans…and I'd probably lose my job if I did."

She warmed to him even more, as they drove passed the big birdbath and the goat, raising its head, while bleating at them.

"I should have accepted your offer before. It finally came to me, why my mother disapproved of Aunt Sue…and her partner, he looks like a trickster…a rascal of the worst sort."

"Low-class Texas trash!" the Lieutenant agreed. And then, "No one knew you were coming, I presume?"

She shook her head.

"The lawyer emailed me, saying it was a hotel, and that Aunt Sue had left me her half...and that rascal Evans, wanted to buy me out."

"So, do you intend to sell?"

"I…I don't know. I'm not one to run from a fight."

"Perhaps you can buy Evans out," the young officer suggested, as they drove along the quiet street.

"And own a…brothel? I think not. Besides, I don't think I can afford to buy him out."

"Well, there's always been a rumor, that Miss Sue hid a lot of money inside the hotel, somewhere. If you found that, you could certainly afford to buy the place and do whatever you like with it."

"I'm not one to chase after pie in the sky. I'm a realist," she answered sternly.

* * *

At the nearest motel, the Lieutenant escorted her in and rang for service.

Seconds later, a young woman appeared at the desk and smiled at the officer.

"Miss Osbourn, this nice lady would like a room in your fine establishment. Can you be so kind as to help her out?"

"Sure. Just give me your name and approximately how long you intend to stay," she said, looking at Mercedes.

Mercedes did as told and was assigned to a room. After handing over her paltry credit card details, she was given a key.

"Who are you in town to visit?" the clerk asked.

"No one, really. I'm here on business."

"Uh…Miss Osbourn, Miss Jones is Sue Sylvester's niece." The clerk's mouth dropped opened and Mercedes wanted to go through the floor.

"I…think, I'd better show you to your room. Do you have luggage?"

"I'll take care of that for you," the Lieutenant said, with an apologetic look on his face.

Mercedes mumbled her thanks and started following the clerk.

She kept her head held high. She couldn't be responsible for what her aunt had done, even if it was the unthinkable. It was humiliating, but she had to get used to it.

Soon everyone will know who she is.

In her genteel poverty, her family's pride was all that had sustained her.

There are so many questions she wanted answered, but, she feared to hear the answers.

* * *

"Have you met Sherwin?" the clerk asked.

"I've seen it," Mercedes replied.

The clerk pointed to a picture of an elderly officer. His hair was parted down the middle and he was slightly cross-eyed, with a grey moustache and a scraggly beard.

Mercedes paused and stared at it.

"That's the fort's founder," Miss Osbourn said.

"He really does resemble the goat," Mercedes said without thinking.

"Most people think so. Sherwin's sort of the town's mascot, but mostly, he grazes the lawn and the orange day-lilies out in front of your aunt's place. I presume you've met the handsome devil at the Texas Lily, Sam Evans?"

"That rascal!" Mercedes said, as she followed the clerk.

"But, a charming one. He could convince a sparrow to fly right into a cat's mouth," the clerk said with a sigh.

"I saw nothing charming about him," Mercedes snapped and continued, "I'll have to talk to Mr. Shuester about what my legal options are."

"Will?" the clerk laughed. And then, "If you'd asked around, you'd have probably seen him at one of the poker tables, at the Lily, tonight. He and Mr. Evans are friends."

* * *

Mercedes' spirits sagged.

If Mr. Shuester was a good friend of the gambler, he would be no ally to her.

"My dear, the easiest thing to do, would be to sell out to Sam and leave town."

"My mother told me, the Jones family has a proud heritage, dating back years, so I'm not one to cut and run from a low-class Texas hooligan."

"Bravely spoken. I imagine there aren't many women who can stand up against Sam Evans' lure."

"This is one woman who is immune to his oily charm," Mercedes said, sitting down on a bed.

"Shall I leave your luggage here, then?" the Lieutenant asked.

"Yes. Thank you so much for your help. You're my hero," Mercedes said. The officer flushed. He bowed his head and said,

"Goodnight, all," and went back the way he came.

* * *

"Sam Evans is a formidable opponent, my dear Miss Jones," the clerk said. With that, she wished Mercedes good night and left her to ponder her next move.

And pondered she did.

She'd like the Texas landscape the train had taken her through, and she'd been excited about a new life and the new career of running a first-class hotel.

And what she'd found, was a slick rascal and a whorehouse.

There she said it…rather...thought it.

How could Aunt Sue have fallen so low? She bit her lip to keep from breaking into sobs and got ready for bed.

Tomorrow, she would decide what to do.

* * *

The next morning, Mercedes had her breakfast on the balcony overlooking the garden at the side, where she could admire the roses and other flowers around the lawn.

Usually, her busy mornings, consisted of a cup of weak coffee and a slice of toast, but this morning, thanks to the kind clerk, she was having proper coffee, so strong, it could float a horseshoe.

Along with that, there was steak, scrambled eggs and hot biscuits, with homemade wild plum jelly.

She tried not to gobble, but the food tasted so good.

She was just eating her last biscuit, when the clerk, Miss Osbourn appeared. Mercedes placed her napkin down and smiled.

"Thank you so much. Everything was delicious. Uh…what time is it?" The clerk looked at her phone and said,

"Ten thirty."

"I believe that scoundrel at the Texas Lily, will be up by now." The clerk laughed.

"Sam? I wouldn't bet on it. Do you really want to confront him? Perhaps you should arrange a meeting in Will Shuester's office tomorrow, instead."

"I wanted to, but…I've decided, I would like to get this settled today," Mercedes said, gritting her teeth. She was nothing, if not stubborn.

"Be careful around that handsome gambler. They say he could talk a cow out of her calf, or a dog off a meat wagon."

"I beg your pardon?" Mercedes said.

"Oh honey," the clerk started with a dismissive wave of her hand, "That's Texan for, beware of the rascal's gift of gab. You wouldn't be the first girl Sam's talked into…never mind. Just be careful."

That was food for thought.

_'So, Sam Evans is a ladies' man. Humph! I don't see him as charming at all. That officer is more my taste…'_

"I need to get over there. Can you arrange a taxi or help me to rent a car?"

"I sure can. You're really going over there this morning?"

"Yes. That's my plan."

"But, it's Sunday, and the girls worked late…" Miss Osbourn saw the disdainful look on Mercedes' face and quickly offered,

"Sorry. They're probably still asleep…all of them and will be 'til noon."

"Good," Mercedes said curtly. And then, "I will wake them up."

She imagined that Texas rascal still soundly asleep and being disturbed by her ringing the bell, over and over. It would serve him right.

A devious smile bloomed on her face, as she pictured Sam Evans' face at her rude awakening.

* * *

**That's it. I'm anxious to hear from you guys. Remember, keep reading with an opened mind. Much love to you.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I know I sound like a broken record, but thank you for your continued support. I appreciate it and need it. And thank you for giving the story a try.**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

As Mercedes drove to the hotel, uncertainty plagued her.

She stepped out of the rental and marched purposefully, with a bout of uneasiness, up the steps of the Texas Lily.

At the elegant stained-glass front doors, she rang the bell and waited. And waited. Then she resorted to pounding.

She wasn't going to be treated shabbily by that rascal.

"Sam Evans, I know you're in there. Open this door immediately!" she shouted and pounded some more.

The door opened, and the elderly Hispanic maid, she'd seen the night before asked,

"Yes?" Mercedes mustered as much dignity as she could, considering she was huffing and puffing from her exertion.

"I'm here to see Mr. Sam Evans."

"He don't usually see visitors this early in the morning, Miss."

"I'm not surprised. I assume he's sleeping off a hangover?"

"No ma'am. He's in the kitchen."

"Okay. Then, direct me to the kitchen, please," Mercedes said.

"Certainly."

* * *

The delicious scent of strong coffee and frying ham, assaulted Mercedes' nose, as she marched towards the kitchen, behind the elderly lady.

It was a spacious kitchen, and as she entered, the scene before her caused her to stop short.

Seven beautiful, but sleepy-looking young women, in various stages of dress...or undress, sat around a big table, waiting patiently it seemed, for breakfast.

Sam Evans, needing a shave and in a wife beater, worse yet, wearing an apron, stood at the stove, cooking. '_Sexy,' _her thoughts immediately screamed. She shook her head, just as he turned and grinned.

"Mornin' Miss Jones. Would you like some breakfast? I cook on Sunday, sometimes."

"He's great at flapjacks," the blonde from the night before, volunteered, then lit a cigarette.

"No thank you. I've had breakfast. Mr. Evans, we need to talk…"

"Well, I haven't, so you'll have to wait. Carmen, get the lady some coffee." Mercedes wasn't about to accept any hospitality from this rascal.

"Thank you, but I'm here on business…"

"You might as well have a cup," the maid said. And then, "Mr. Sam is right stubborn."

Stubborn? She'd show him stubborn. His charm won't work on a Jones descendant.

She accepted the coffee, however, and stood there awkwardly.

"Sit down," he ordered, gesturing towards the table, but all of a sudden, the girls didn't look too friendly.

"Thank you, but I prefer to stand."

"Suit yourself."

He shrugged and returned to his cooking.

* * *

Sam had pots boiling and ham frying, along with his flapjacks. He looked at home in the kitchen, Mercedes could tell he knew what he was doing.

She didn't know what to say, but she didn't want to stand there, just so.

"I didn't expect you to be a cook," she broached.

"It's just one of my many talents," the rascal said, winking at her. And the girls around the table giggled.

"I like to keep my hand in…I learned a lot in New Orleans and where I'm from, Tennessee. All the days, except for Sundays, the kitchen belongs to Carmen."

She watched him dish up food.

Something in a big bowl, looked like mush.

"What in the name of goodness is that?" she asked, pointing to said bowl.

"Grits," he grinned. "You know you're in east Texas, when they serve you grits with your eggs. In north Texas, it's more likely to be fried potatoes and along the Mexican border and west Texas, it'll be beans and tortillas. Want some?"

"I said, I already had breakfast," she answered frostily. The girls were digging into their heaping plates.

"Sam honey," a brunette said, smiling at him. "You've got so many talents."

"Evidently, Miss Jones doesn't think so," he said. He grinned that devilish grin of his, dished himself a plate of food and poured a cup of coffee.

"Very well, Miss Jones, if you will follow me, we can talk in my office, while I eat…if you don't mind." The girls moaned. One said,

"Aww Sam... honey, we thought you was gonna eat with us." He winked at them, and said,

"We'll have dinner together. Remember? I've got a roast ready to go in the oven…and Carmen, you'll watch my coconut cake, while I'm with Miss Jones, won't you?"

"Sho 'nuff, Mister Sam. You want icing with that?" He nodded as he pulled off his apron.

"Get the eggs out. The whites whip higher when they're room temperature."

"Well," huffed Mercedes. "Is there no end to your talents?" He winked at her.

"Ask the girls."

And the girls broke out into giggles, whilst Mercedes' face burned.

She wanted to grab the syrup pitcher, and pour it all over his head, but being a lady of quality, she wouldn't lower herself to that. Besides, the rascal that he was, he might return the gesture.

"We have business to discuss," she reminded him with a frosty tone.

"Come, Miss Jones," he said, leading the way out of the kitchen, food in both hands.

She followed along, silently, with her coffee cup, as he led her into a large office, in one wing of the hotel.

* * *

Sam set his food down and gestured for her to sit in a nearby chair.

Instead, she chose to take the one directly across from him.

She set her cup on the desk with a bang, as he dug into his food, eating heartily.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like some, Miss Jones?"

"No thank you. And it's not polite to greet a lady in such attire." Sam grinned at her and a lock of hair fell over one eye.

"Let's get one thing straight, lady. I didn't invite you and I've never claimed to be a gentleman. I'm a Tennessee-an by birth, a gambler by choice, a Texan right now and I was very good friends with your late aunt."

"How good?" she asked, without thinking.

"Now, who's being rude? She was like a mother to me…if that's what you're asking."

"I…I'm sorry."

She realized that he was right.

She might have to change her attitude, if she's going to get anywhere with this rascal. It's very obvious, he's accustomed to dealing with women, not ladies.

Well, as she's said before, his oily charm won't work on her.

* * *

"Mr. Evans, you must understand that, I'm a bit startled to discover my aunt's past."

"You ain't startled, lady. You're shocked out of your drawers."

He put a bite of ham into his mouth, and her eyes followed. He had the most succulent looking lips, she's ever seen on a Caucasian man. He went on,

"Sue was a great old gal and you can only hope to be half the woman she was. Are you going out to visit the grave?"

"Certainly not! And I won't sit here and be insulted." She rose, feeling herself flush.

"My dear Miss Jones, I don't know what you're doing in Texas or the Lily. I offered to buy you out, to spare you from ever knowing the hard facts of life, that your aunt apparently hid from you."

Mercedes didn't know whether to cry, or throw her coffee cup at him.

"I will admit, I've lived a very sheltered life. I had hoped to make a new start in the hotel business here." He laughed and sipped his coffee.

"The Lily is not exactly a hotel."

"I'm aware." She set her jaw and glared at him.

"So, just where is this conversation headed, Miss Jones? We seem to be caught in a Mexican stand-off, here."

"A what?" He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "It's Texas talk, which is like no other in the world. It means, we're at loggerheads. What do you have in mind? It seems quite clear that we'd be unlikely partners."

"Me? A partner in a…a…"

"See? You can't even say the word." He flashed a cheeky smile at her. "You should have accepted my generous offer and stayed in Lima."

"I wish I had," she snapped back. "But I had no idea…"

"Now you do. And my offer still stands…wait, I'll sweeten the pot."

"What?"

"It's a poker term. I'll give you ten thousand more, if you let me buy you out…and keep the Texas Lily…and you go back to Lima." Mercedes was nothing if not shrewd.

"So, what was worth twenty thousand dollars, is suddenly worth thirty? It's probably worth more than that, also." He sighed and looked right at her.

"Don't toy with me, Miss Jones. Take my money and go away. It's a fair offer. Although, I may have to borrow the money," he lied. "It's worth the extra ten thousand to keep you out of my hair and out of town."

* * *

Mercedes politely cleared her throat and stared him down.

"If it's worth that much to you, sir, I believe it's worth that much to me. In good conscience, I cannot imagine myself running a…a…a brothel for a living."

"Good Lord!" Sam said, looking skyward. "Sue Sylvester, what were you thinking? I thought you liked me." Then to Mercedes. "Alright, Miss Jones, then, you buy me out, and shut the place down."

"Are you insane? I don't have twenty thousand dollars laying around," she lied.

"Oh, I thought we were talking thirty? However, to break the partnership, I'll accept twenty thousand and move on. I'd even go for nineteen thousand, or there-about. I've been run out of better towns than this, anyway."

He put his boots up on the desk and smiled at her.

"I do not want to own a…a…" She still had trouble saying the word.

"So, you will accept the twenty thousand and return to Lima?"

"You said thirty." She glared at him.

"You are a tough cookie to deal with." He smiled in grudging admiration. "Alright, thirty. There's an evening train…"

"No!" She said, glaring harder.

"No? Did you say no?" From the expression on his face, the handsome rogue had never heard that word from a woman before.

"I said no. The Jones' have a long history of resoluteness," she snapped. "We do not run from adversity…."

"Oh God!"

Mercedes took a deep breath and decided on a different tack. This scoundrel was as stubborn and determined as she was.

* * *

"I do not know what the answer to this conundrum is, Mr. Evans, but…"

"This what?"

"Conundrum."

"School-teacher. Figures. I came up through the school of hard knocks, Miss Jones, and so did your aunt." She winced.

"I'm embarrassed by my aunt. I cannot imagine she needed money so badly, that she would stoop this low." He gave her a cold, hard look.

"You should hope live, to be half as warm and generous as Sue Sylvester. Here in Texas, we always say, don't judge anyone, until you've walked a mile in their boots."

"This is getting us nowhere, Mr. Evans. I think we should arrange a meeting with this despicable lawyer, who emailed me…"

"Will? He's really a good man." He grinned.

"Pardon me, but I have another opinion of him…hotel indeed!" She huffed. "I understand he's an acquaintance of yours, so you'll know how to contact him. Let us say about four o'clock, this afternoon?" she finished.

"On Sunday?" he paused. "I think Will is usually taking a nap or playing pinochle with Dimples and Pug, on Sunday afternoons."

"Who? Never mind. Send him a message to forego his afternoon pleasures and we'll meet at his office at four o'clock, sharp. We'll let him mediate this mess."

She stood and walked briskly to the doorway, turning,

"I will see you in Mr. Shuester's office, which I presume is on the main street. This problem must be resolved." Sam sighed.

"I was planning on going noodlin' for catfish this afternoon, before supper."

"What?"

"It's a Southern thing. You dive down and feel along the river-bank, until you stick your hand in and find a big catfish, laying under the bank in the mud, where it's cool. Then you grab him and toss him up on the bank. Last one I got, weighed fifty pounds," he explained.

"It sounds dangerous and primitive."

"Just like me," he grinned.

"Well said. I couldn't agree more. Now, good day to you, sir."

"Well, it was, until you showed up," he tossed at her.

"Humph!" And she went sailing out of his office, out the door and down the steps, fuming.

Sam Evans was primitive, but she wasn't certain how dangerous he was.

The way the girls at the Lily had sighed and smiled at him…and he certainly thought he was God's gift to women. Well, this is one woman who is immune to his charm, even if he was a big, handsome...no...gorgeous man, she thought.

She was determined not to let that rascal win this.

* * *

**This Mercedes is a prude, almost a snob, but she's educated and was raised by a cold, no-nonsense mother, who used her words like daggers against her only child and daughter, as a way to reign her in and control her. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you for your continued interest in this story, the characters, especially Mercedes can be annoying and unbearable sometimes, but it will all come together.**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

Sam sighed for the umpteenth time, in the space of a few minutes. He got up and went to the window, to watch the dark haired, curvy woman, marching down the front steps and into the car she was driving.

"Lady, what am I gonna do about you?" he asked himself. Quinn came into the room, just then.

"You talking to somebody, Sam, honey?"

He turned to look at her. She had last night's lipstick smeared across her mouth and her neck looked dirty. She also reeked of stale tobacco.

Miss Jones had smelled of soap, flowers and some kind of fruity lotion. And her face had been shiny and clean…and scattered with freckles, rather undignified, for a strait-laced schoolteacher.

"Nah. Miss Jones just left." Quinn laughed.

"Ain't she a hoot, though? Short, curvy, homely and probably never had a man in her bed."

"You got that right," Sam said, watching the car go up the driveway. "But there ain't many girls that would go toe to toe with a man. She's as stubborn as I am."

Quinn leaned against his desk and gave him a provocative smile.

"I've got a good idea what to do with the afternoon," she said.

Sam was suddenly bored with her.

She was good at what she did, but he'd never get any interesting conversation or challenge out of her.

Was he loco? What man expected sass or interesting conversation out of a woman?

"No can do, Quinn" he winked and shook his head. "Miss prissy Jones wants a meeting with me and Will this afternoon. Maybe he can talk her into selling out."

"You couldn't?" she snorted. "This ain't like you, Sam, not to be able to charm a girl out of her drawers."

Sam didn't like having that rubbed in. He turned away from the window.

"I don't think that will work with her. She's smart and hard-headed." Quinn tried to slip her hands around Sam's neck, but he shook her off.

"Smart and hard-headed may be good things in a man, but that ain't what a guy is looking for in a woman, is it?" she asked.

"Hell no! She's my worst nightmare…a real woman who's as savvy as a man. Will has his work cut out for him on this deal. Maybe he can reason with her. But she's the most unreasonable woman, I've ever met."

He went outside and plopped down on the porch swing, trying to think.

He needed to call Will…better yet, he'll message him. He won't like his afternoon interrupted, but, it is what it is.

What is it gonna take, to rid myself of this short, thick, curvy, dark-haired pest? He wondered.

* * *

Mercedes returned to the motel to have her Sunday lunch.

Miss Osbourn was a great help. She had everything waiting and ready, out on the balcony, just as Mercedes entered.

"Thank you so much," she offered. Miss Osbourn flushed.

"Aww, it's nothin' honey. It's the least I can do. How did it go?" Mercedes explained her predicament.

"Well, we're supposed to meet with Will Shuester at four. I'm thinking to hire my own lawyer."

"Maybe. But I think Shuester will do right by you. I sympathize with you, though."

"Thank you. That Sam Evans…is such a scamp…"

"But a handsome one." Mercedes scowled. "Well, he is. Don't you think so?" Miss Osbourn pressed.

"He is," she grudgingly admitted.

In the back of her mind, she remembered the scoundrel's lopsided grin and the way his blonde hair fell over his pretty green eyes. He was dangerously appealing…to some women.

He was virile, broad shouldered, tall and had a whole harem of women at his beck and call, like some stallion.

She wondered suddenly, if he serviced them all. He probably did and was more than able to do so, too.

Her face burned. What was she thinking?

"Are you alright, honey? Your face look a little flushed," the clerk asked.

"I…I…the afternoon is so much warmer here, than in Lima," she stammered, whilst the clerk looked at her strangely.

"Well, there's no place hotter than Texas. Locals take pride in it," the clerk tossed in.

* * *

She droned on, but Mercedes' mind was racing again.

Seeing a wild stallion running free across the Texas prairie, a whole herd of mares running with him.

Some wild stallions were not meant to be tamed, or even controlled, she silently surmised.

"So, what do you think, sweetie?"

"What?" she started, embarrassed that she'd been thinking about a racing stallion, whilst ignoring the kind hostess before her.

"I said, if you can stick it, it'd be nice to have a fresh start…but I guess it depends on the kind of deal you strike."

"Uh…yes. That was my intention. Getting a fresh start and carving a new life for myself, here…until…"

"Well, if you think you can deal with that charming rascal…"

_'He's more power, muscle and danger,' _Mercedes thought.

"Do you think there's anything to the story, about gold being hidden in the Lily?" Miss Osbourn asked.

"I have no idea."

"If there is, you shouldn't sell out too cheaply. Evans might offer you more, just to get rid of you, so he'd have free rein at hunting the gold for himself."

"He did try his best to talk me into selling out to him," Mercedes admitted.

"Ha! I knew it! Watch yourself honey and remember what is said about him. He can charm a bird out of a tree."

"I seriously doubt that," Mercedes spat. And then, "I don't find him charming at all, only annoying."

* * *

After lunch, Mercedes went to her room to tidy up for her appointment at the lawyer's office. She re-combed her tight, severe bun and put a dab of perfume behind her ears.

Not that she thought she had any feminine wiles, to weaken Sam Evans' stubborn resolve, but she was hoping the lawyer might be swayed, and if he was, maybe he could sway that Texas scoundrel.

She needed every edge she could get.

She wasn't the average blonde, skinny beauty, but she believed herself to be just as beautiful. Plus, her mind was as sharp as any man's, or even sharper.

Unfortunately, men were swayed by big bosoms and rounded posteriors, not brains. But she had a healthy dose of both, so she wasn't worried.

She looked into the mirror and sighed. Then she took a deep breath of resolve, steeled herself and marched out the door.

* * *

At precisely four o'clock, Mercedes pulled her rental in front of Will Shuester's office.

There weren't many vehicles around. In fact, it seemed as if the whole town was napping or watching television on a warm Sunday afternoon.

A spotted hound lay out in the road, asleep and she marveled at that.

There was a sleek gold McLaren parked a car-length away. No doubt belonging to that gambling rascal.

_'Of course, it would be gold…just like his hair,' _she thought in annoyance. She could just see the fine leather seats on the interior, as she huffed and turned away.

She took a deep breath and went through the doors with the lettering, _**WILLIAM SHUESTER, ATTORNEY AT LAW**_.

* * *

A brown-haired man sat behind a cluttered desk and Sam Evans sat to one side.

Both had drinks in their hands, and both stood when she entered. She frowned at them.

"I thought this was a business meeting. Alcohol on a Sunday afternoon?"

"Miss Jones, I presume?" Will asked.

"Yes. My name is Mercedes Jones, Miss Sue Sylvester's niece."

"How do you do?" Will asked, gesturing towards a chair. She took the invitation and sat.

"I'm well, thank you."

"Would you like something to drink?"

"No thanks. I want my wits about me when I am conducting business." Sam snorted, but she ignored him. He sipped his drink and sighed.

"I told you what she was like, Will," he said. Mercedes glared at him and then turned her attention to the lawyer.

"I think you are guilty of subterfuge, sir."

"Subterfuge?" Sam started. "Tsk, tsk. Will, I knew you had sinned a lot, but I didn't know you had committed subterfuge," he finished and laughed.

Mercedes gritted her teeth, to hold in her temper. He was maddening. If she could get away with slapping him, she would.

"I meant…that Mr. Shuester misled me about what I was inheriting." Will fidgeted nervously.

"I'm really sorry about that, Miss Jones, but I just couldn't email a lady like yourself, telling her she had inherited a…well, you know." Sam snorted.

"If instead of being hard-headed, lady, you had accepted my offer, you would not have to know about this," Sam threw out.

"I'm not hard-headed. I give everything a lot of thought. I'm not a silly female who lets herself be ruled by whimsy and passion."

Her voice was cold enough to cause a blizzard.

Sam snorted once again and asked,

"Do you even know the meaning of the word?"

"I do. My dictionary says…"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"You are a cad, sir. Now, do you know the meaning of that word?" Will looked at his watch and sighed.

"This is getting us nowhere, folks. They're holding up a game of pinochle for me…so we need to resolve this."

"If you can convince this stubborn, old maid…" Sam began.

"Hold up. How dare you? Who are you calling an old maid?" Mercedes snapped.

* * *

Mr. Shuester poured himself a drink and sat back, to watch the show. In his mind, he was saying,

_'I can forget about a fast settlement. I wish I'd told the guys to start without me.' _

Mercedes pulled a list from her purse and sat poised with a pencil. She directed her question at Sam.

"What do you own of the Lily, Mr. Evans?"

"We own the hotel jointly. It was once owned by a guy from New York, who came to Texas to make a livin' but went broke. I understand Sue bought it at a good price from him, more than ten years ago."

"Hmm. And what did you pay her for your share?"

"What business is that of yours?" He exhaled loudly and reached for the bottle of liquor.

"For your information, Mr. Evans, I'm trying to determine the hotel's value. I suspect Aunt Sue gave you a really good deal."

"Yes, she did." He grinned and went on. "Didn't anybody tell you I was charming?" Mercedes scowled.

"Somehow, that eludes me. How did the business operate?"

"I handled the saloon and the gambling downstairs. Sue kept the upstairs running. So, you've inherited the upstairs and the girls."

* * *

Mercedes felt the blood rush to her face.

"I do not intend to make my living off girls, who sell themselves to men."

"Miss Jones, you are giving me a headache."

"Are you sure it's not a hangover from last night's riotous living?"

"The headache's getting bigger by the minute."

He gulped his drink and looked beseechingly at the lawyer, who was sitting with an amused look on his face. Will looked directly at Mercedes and said,

"Miss Jones, I think Sam can be convinced, to offer you a little more than twenty thousand for your share…"

"Already tried," Sam said.

"Perhaps he might offer you a lot more…"

"Now wait just a damned minute!" Sam said and put his glass on the desk with a bang.

"Out of the question. I cannot accept dirty money that those girls have earned by…well, you know," Mercedes declared. She felt her face burn. Sam glared at her.

"Then, buy me out sister and you can do whatever you want with the place."

"I have considered that." She chewed the end of the pencil. "However, I'm not sure how much you'll be asking. If it's out of my reach, maybe I can pay you in installments…"

"No way, sister," Sam snapped. "In God we trust…all others pay cash." She thought about it for a moment.

"Very well...and I'm not your sister. If, as you say, I control the upstairs and the girls, I'm going to move in."

* * *

Will Shuester choked on his drink and burst into spasms of coughing, while Sam stood up so fast, his chair went over backwards.

"What the hell? You can't be serious," he shouted, giving her a steely green stare. She in turn gave him a steely brown one.

"Mr. Evans, swearing is the measure of a small vocabulary."

_'Although I do it, too'. And then, 'Shut up!' _she internally screamed at her thoughts.

"Lady, I believe you could make a saint swear."

"Which you definitely are not," she threw at him.

"I never claimed to be. Your aunt liked me just the way I am."

"We've already determined that my late aunt had questionable taste in lifestyles and men."

Sam turned a pleading look towards Will, who put down his glass and nervously pulled at his tie.

"Samuel, I think we need to have a chat. Can you give us a minute, Miss Jones? We won't be long, I promise."

Mercedes smiled, feeling as if she was in the catbird's seat.

"Certainly."

"But Will…" Sam started.

"Come on, let's go outside, Sam. We need to talk."

He grabbed Sam's arm and gently pulled him along, out front and closed the door.

* * *

Mercedes sat and waited, mildly amused at the angry voices and gesturing she could see through the office window.

After a while, the pair returned inside.

Sam slammed the door so hard, the glass rattled.

Both sat down.

Will leaned on his desk and smiled at her.

"My dear Miss Jones, Mister Evans has generously decided to…"

"I saw you almost twisting his arm out there. I think what he'd really like to do, is throttle me."

"Don't tempt me," Sam growled.

"Not now," Will said, making a soothing gesture. "This is getting us nowhere and I have a game I'd like to get to, before tomorrow night. Where was I?"

"My offer," Sam said, through gritted teeth.

"Oh, yes. Miss Jones, your partner, after much thought, has decided to offer you the very generous sum of forty thousand dollars for your share of the business."

Mercedes leaned back in the chair and smiled.

"No."

"Didn't you hear him? I'm offering more money?" Sam said, an edge to his voice.

"I heard. You seem very eager to be rid of me, Mr. Evans."

"Lady, you don't know the half of it." He reached for the bottle again.

"You'd better keep your head clear, or I might best you in this deal," she said.

"Miss Jones," Sam warned. "I have never been bested by a woman. Do not try my patience."

"Why not! You're trying mine."

"Now, now," Will said, gesturing frantically. "Let's keep our minds on the goal. That's a lot of money, Miss Jones."

"I know that. Mr. Evans seems too eager to get rid of me and there are rumors around, that my aunt hid large amounts of money, somewhere in the hotel."

* * *

Sam leaned back in his chair and groaned.

"That old story? Miss Jones, I live in that hotel and I've never…"

"I wouldn't expect you to level with me. If there's gold, or money, you'd want it for yourself. I heard my aunt didn't trust banks." Will cleared his throat audibly.

"Miss Jones, I was your aunt's lawyer and she's never said anything to me, about money hidden in the Texas Lily. Now, considering the faint possibility that there is, we can work out a contract, that if you sold out and Mr. Evans ever found such a treasure, you'd have prior claim…"

"Ha! You think I'd trust this sleazy rascal to let me know if he ever found anything?"

"Look lady, you don't know one damned thing about me," Sam all but shouted.

Will sighed and looked at his watch again. He looked put out and resigned to being there for the foreseeable future.

"She's right, Sam. You ain't exactly what the average person would call a model citizen."

"That was before, and you know that. I thought you were my friend, Will. There is no money hidden in that hotel. It's just an old tale. If there was, I'd like to think Sue would have told me or left it to somebody in her will."

Will shrugged apologetically and turned to Mercedes.

"He's got a point there, Miss Jones."

"I see we are getting nowhere," Mercedes said briskly. And then, "Mr. Shuester, I am a teacher, and I'm touched by the plight of those poor, unfortunate girls…"

"They ain't poor, Miss Jones," Will started. "Just Saturday night and on every Saturday night, there's a waiting line…"

"Mr. Shuester!" she shouted, feeling her face heat up.

"Or so, some of the men tell me," Will finished hastily and took out a handkerchief and wiped his face.

"Nevertheless, I feel duty bound to help them," Mercedes said. Sam looked puzzled.

"By doing what?"

"As I said before, I am a teacher. If those girls knew a little etiquette and could find their hidden talents, they could fit right into society."

Both men looked puzzled. She went on.

"I mean, they could find respectable jobs and probably get married."

"Married?" Sam said the word, as if speaking the name of some dreaded disease. "Who'd marry a wh…?"

"Mr. Evans," she said. "If I could reform the girls, they could find husbands and…"

"You mean," croaked Will. He swallowed hard. "Close the upstairs rooms at the Texas Lily?" He looked a bit faint.

"We will see," she said.

* * *

Both men jumped to their feet, their mouths hanging open.

"Speechless? This must be a first for both of you. Mr. Evans, if you will, get a locksmith to put a strong, new lock on my aunt's bedroom door, I will be grateful. I'm moving in tomorrow."

"Moving in? Tomorrow?" Sam asked, opening and closing his mouth, like a fish gasping for air.

"I said moving in, didn't I? How else am I to reform those unfortunate girls?"

"Fif…fifty thousand," Sam croaked. "I'll give you fifty thousand for your share."

"Save your money, Mr. Evans. I cannot be bought off."

"But you can't be serious about moving in?"

"Why do you doubt me? Aunt Sue also left me a little money. I intend to close down the brothel section and use my cash to benefit those girls."

"But that will affect business downstairs," Sam said. His voice rose. Now, it was her turn to smile.

"That is not my problem. Gambling and drinking are bad for your health and the community." Will turned pale. He said,

"Miss Jones, I think I can get the local men to make up a pot of about seventy thousand…"

"I cannot be bought. I only wanted to see how the deal would go. Good afternoon gentlemen." To Sam, she said, "Tell Carmen to set an extra place at dinner tomorrow."

* * *

Will Shuester was almost sobbing.

"Miss Jones, if you turn things upside down, there is no telling what the men who frequent the Texas Lily might…"

"Mr. Shuester, they might stay home with their wives and play games with their children. What this town needs, is another good hotel, not a brothel."

"Tell that to the soldiers and cowboys!" Sam seethed.

"You tell them, she snapped and then, "Remember the locksmith, won't you?"

"Suppose I don't?" She smiled at him.

"Then everyone in town will gossip, that you are lusting after the 'old maid' schoolteacher and is intending to take her virtue." Sam shuddered.

"I'll put that lock on the door myself, if I have to."

"Thank you. Good day, gentlemen."

* * *

With that, she sailed out of the office and got into her car, smiling to herself.

When she looked back at the glass window, the rascal was gesturing wildly, and the lawyer was running his hand through his thick hair.

She was going to save those unfortunate girls, after that, she had no plans, but if what she was doing annoyed Sam Evans, it was a very good thing.

* * *

**So, the insufferable Mercedes has struck. What will it take, to get through to her? **


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you for your continued interest in this story. I sincerely appreciate it.**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

Inside Will Shuester's office, Sam Evans was fit to be tied.

"Fucking hell!" he shouted, as he watched Mercedes Jones, sashay to her car and get in. She was the damnedest woman he has ever met.

Worse yet, she intended to ruin him financially, by meddling at the Lily, thereby cutting into his business.

He watched her drive away, head held high and looking straight ahead.

She reminded him of his aunt. Very pretty and as stubborn as an army mule.

"Sue, this is some joke you've played on me."

_Or had she? _

He'd like to believe, Sue Sylvester had really expected the school-marm, to accept the money and never find out that she was the Madam of the most successful bordello in all east Texas.

Right now, he was a little miffed at Sue.

He believed in his heart, that she could have left him in a better position.

They were good friends, or so he thought.

* * *

Will shook his head and took a shot.

"You think there's anything to that old rumor, about Sue hiding money in the hotel?" Sam made an exasperated sigh.

"She's never said anything to me. Who knows what she did with her profits? For all I know, she put it in a bank in Beaumont, or Dallas, to fund a home for stray cats."

"No, some of it funded…" Will started to say something and then seemed to think better of it. "You're right about one thing, Sam. I never saw such a stubborn woman. Wait 'til the local boys hear about her plans. There'll be more hell raised than the alligator did, when the lake went dry."

"She ain't gonna reform the girls," Sam gritted, as he returned to the window, to watch Miss Jones driving down the street, posture straight and high.

Inside, he wasn't so sure, though.

Besides being a stubborn pain in the ass, Miss Jones seemed like a very determined and opinionated woman. Worse yet, she had morals and principals and hadn't turned into a giggling, swooning idiot, who went to mush when he smiled at her.

* * *

Will stood up.

"I'd better not tell the boys at the pinochle game just yet. We don't want the whole male population to go into panic." Sam blew out a breath.

"Don't tell them, because it ain't gonna happen. I'm in charge of the Lily and if Prissy Jones thinks anything different, she'll find out Sam Evans ain't a man to be messed with."

"She's beginning to get under your skin." Will said.

"Hell no!" Sam growled. I'm not gonna give her another thought. She ain't that pretty and she's too smart for a woman."

He realized he'd lied, and he sounded totally sexist, but he didn't give a damn at the moment. He was angry.

* * *

As the two departed the office, Will said,

"I don't envy you, my boy…after having to deal with that stern old maid."

"I may just strangle her," Sam thought out loud.

"They'd throw you in jail."

"Not if the jury meet her," Sam said, and then, "They'd probably give me a medal...you know what? I bet I could make it so miserable for her at the Lily, she won't want to stay. In the meantime, I'd better get a locksmith or get to changing those locks myself."

"Luke will be at the game," Will reminded him.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Well, tell him to come over tonight, or first thing tomorrow. I ain't about to have anyone in town think I might want to get into that old maid's drawers. I got a reputation to uphold. I'll see you later, Will."

He went out and swung into his sleek ride, then drove away, towards the hotel at the end of the street.

* * *

As he neared it, he saw Sherwin, the goat, munching day-lilies and grass, near that damned birdbath.

Why would Sue have thought he'd want that old thing? No, she definitely played a joke on him. And to think, he'd given her that diamond lily pin for her birthday.

He drove to the back of the Lily, instead of the front and went in through the back door.

He walked into the backroom and stood, studying the open balcony over the big gambling room.

The railing where Sue had fallen through, had been repaired.

It was strange. How could she had fallen?

She's walked that balcony thousands of times.

But the hall light had been off.

Maybe the bulb had gone and she tripped in the dim light.

Even as he stood there, he could remember looking up when she'd screamed, and saw her coming down, to hit the billiard table.

She might've been okay, except her head caught the eight ball.

Rotten luck!

Sam remembered scrambling to his feet and rushing to the table, but there was nothing that could be done.

Immediately, the girls and the customers had run out of the upstairs rooms, to peer over the balcony, screaming and asking what had happened.

Sam had even thought he'd seen that damned Lieutenant among them, although he wasn't certain. But if so, it meant the Lieutenant must have sneaked in, because the Texas Lily had been off limits to that twerp, after Sam had caught him cheating at card games, plus he had welshed on a number of gambling debts.

And now, Sam was going to have to deal with Sue's niece.

* * *

The Lily was quiet this Sunday afternoon, with the girls probably napping in their rooms, Sam thought.

The ironclad schoolteacher had indeed given him a headache.

He went behind the bar, and poured himself a stiff drink, which was unusual for him.

He seldom drank, because he was certain it affected his poker game, but since meeting _her_, he's been reaching for a bottle, as though it was a lifeline.

"Miss Jones could drive Reverend Lovejoy to drink," he dryly said to himself, as he sipped from his glass.

What was he going to do?

He had to get rid of her, but he wasn't sure how to accomplish that.

She wouldn't sell out, and she didn't want to buy him out.

"A woman with principles," he snorted and leaned against the bar. "I'm not used to dealing with that."

He rubbed his chin, his mind going.

And now, she was moving in.

Even the thought made him cringe.

Yes, there had to be a way he could annoy her so much, she would pack up and leave town.

"Not likely," he surmised. Miss Jones seemed as determined, as any female he'd ever met. "You can say that again," he grumbled under his breath.

If he couldn't drive her away, what else could he do? He thought about it for a long moment, then smiled.

"Okay, so she's a pain in the ass, and stubborn. But she's a woman, ain't she? There's my answer."

* * *

Sam knew he could play women like the strings on a fiddle.

He'd certainly used his skills on enough females.

He's left a trail of broken hearts across the Lone Star state. Not that he did anything underhanded, he was always up-front, telling the girl at the time, he would not be tied down.

That message always acted like a red flag to a bull, but they charged in, determined to hog-tie him and put a wedding ring on his finger.

There had been one beauty after another, but none had taken his heart and none never would.

He was a Texan by choice, to the core and he valued his freedom and independence. Besides, why buy the cow, when he could always get free milk?

He sipped his drink, smiled, and began to make plans.

Maybe, even a stern, prissy schoolteacher from Lima, could be vulnerable to his virile male charm.

"When hell freezes over," he grumbled. Miss Jones seemed too smart, or too strait-laced, to fall for a man's wiles.

But then, she had never been charmed by the champion ladies' man, Sam Evans.

* * *

He wandered towards his downstairs bedroom.

He heard the girls laughing and talking upstairs. Although pretty and very talented on the mattress, suddenly they seemed stupid and inane to him, and he'd had them all.

None of them offered a challenge like the quick-witted school teacher.

He winced at the thought of bedding her. She was too short and not pretty at all, he lied to himself.

"Well, she is, but…it's that damn, plain no-nonsense bun. But, after a few drinks, all women are beauties...even with a plain bun," he muttered to himself.

If she'd just keep that educated mouth of hers shut, while he made love to her…but that was highly unlikely, he thought.

He's almost certain, she's never been kissed, but she'd still try to instruct him on how to do it, if given the chance.

He plopped down on his favorite chair in his room and grinned.

"Alright, Miss Jones, you have thrown down the gauntlet to the biggest ladies' man in east Texas. If I can't buy you out, maybe I can charm you out of your share of the Texas Lily."

For just a moment, he thought that, it really wasn't fair or gallant to seduce an innocent woman. Then he thought about how she'll probably wreck his business, if he didn't get her out of town.

If only she was more approachable, it would make the task much easier.

"Yes, my dear lady, if you dare go toe-to-toe with me, you may find yourself losing your virginity and losing your share of the Lily."

He shuddered again, picturing her with that severe bun and the no-nonsense look on her face. He had no doubt he could charm her drawers off her. The question was, could he stand to bed her?

"Anything to save the Texas Lily," he promised himself and he meant it.

* * *

Mercedes had driven away from the lawyer's office gritting her teeth. That damn man, Evans, he thought he was so smart and so sure of himself.

Just by the way he'd looked at her, told her, he thought he was God's gift to women.

Not that Mercedes knew that much about men.

Her stern, cold mother, had been very strict and now Mercedes understood why. She must've been afraid her only daughter might turn out like Aunt Sue.

Mercedes had never been to a ball, or any fancy gala…hardly a party, and out to dinner a handful of times…although, one of her young students had taught her to dance.

Not many young men had called to court her, or show her that much attention, anyway.

The two or three who had acted even slightly interested, when she was younger, had been run off by her strict mother.

After that, her mother had gotten sicker and every spare moment was dedicated to her care, leaving Mercedes no time for a social life.

By the time her mother had died, Mercedes had resigned herself to teaching other people's kids and never having one of her own.

Her life had been planned in a long, dull line, with no surprises.

Until Aunt Sue's will, which had now turned her life upside down.

What to do?

She had no one to ask, really.

She drove down the street and back to the motel.

* * *

Inside, she met Miss Osbourn, who gave her a warm smile, as she was dealing with a customer.

A few minutes later, there was a knock and Mercedes went to the door to answer it.

She was met by the clerk, smiling with a pitcher of iced tea and two glasses on a tray.

"Thought you might need a little liquid energy."

"Thanks. That's very kind of you."

"Aww, it's nothing honey. I can't stay long, I have a slightly busy evening."

"That's fine."

"So, how did it go?" Mercedes inhaled and exhaled. "Oh, dear! It's the gambler, isn't it?" Mercedes frowned.

"He's such a…rascal," she said.

"I told you he was a charming rascal. I gather the two of you couldn't come to an agreement?"

Mercedes sipped her iced tea.

She briefly wondered if Sam Evans was playing pinochle with Will and the others.

"He's being completely unreasonable."

"So, what do you intend to do?"

"It seems as though we're at loggerheads. I refuse to accept his offer. The morality of accepting the wages of sin, seems to…"

"You're thinking about closing the Lily?" The clerk asked wide-eyed. And then, "I'm sorry for prying. I'm just thinking of economics. After all, if it were to close, the local cowboys would have to ride to another town and those poor truck drivers…"

"Would take up more wholesome pastimes, like playing darts, or watching a game…or even joining a weekly nature hike…like the one I intend to put on," Mercedes earnestly threw in. She went on,

"I've given this a lot of thought and I'm nothing, if not decisive…headstrong, my mother used to call me."

"Just the thing every guy dream of…a stubborn, headstrong woman," the clerk snorted.

"Well, I beg to differ, I think I'm a more resolute, decisive woman."

"Good for you, honey." Mercedes placed her glass down.

"As I said before, I've given this much thought, and I honestly believe, there is only one thing left for me to do...move into the Lily and reform those poor, unfortunate girls..."

"What?"

"I mean it. My aunt has left me some money and I am a teacher. Along with music, I am quite versed in grammar and etiquette. I believe I can lead those girls to a better way of life and maybe…find them respectable jobs or even husbands."

"You're brave. Good for you. That's something the ladies of this town have long hoped for. And that will give the more respectable local girls, a chance to gain the interest of the young guys and neighboring ranchers."

"In addition to reforming those girls, I need to clean up, or close that sinful establishment. This might be my destiny."

"Hip! Hip! Hooray! A toast to you, brave lady." Mercedes smiled as the two clinked their glasses together. "What does Sam think about this…your plans?"

"Don't ask," Mercedes said and sighed. And then, "Nevertheless, I cannot do anything about how that…he…operates his part of the hotel, but I can do something about closing down the upstairs," she finished, with renewed determination.

"Well, hurray for you. I think every respectable woman in the county, will want a statue of you, in front of the courthouse," the clerk smirked, and then threw in, "And every man will want you hanged and quartered in effigy."

Mercedes threw her head back and laughed, long and hard, provoking the same reaction from her new found friend.

* * *

**Well, the battle is on between Sam and Mercedes, winner takes all. Much love to you.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you for your kind support.**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

Early Monday morning, Mercedes packed up her few belongings and carted them out to her rental.

Miss Osbourn, the clerk, hugged her and wished her Godspeed. She also told her, all the women in town and its environs, would be forever grateful to her, for her courage.

However, Mercedes did not feel quite so brave, as once again, she marched up the steps of the hotel and rang the bell.

After a moment, Carmen answered the door.

"Oh, Miss, you're back?"

"I certainly am, and I'll be moving into Miss Sue's room. Didn't Mr. Evans tell you?"

"Yes ma'am, he did. But I didn't believe it…and I'm not sure he did either. I just can't see Mr. Sam liking this." Mercedes shouldered her aside, politely.

"I don't imagine he will, but, he knows I'm coming." From somewhere in the back, she heard his deep male voice asking,

"Carmen, who's at the door?"

"The new owner of half the Lily," Carmen drawled and Mercedes wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic, or not.

"What?"

Sam Evans came striding into the entry hall, but by then, Mercedes and her luggage were already half-way up the winding stairs. He peered up at her.

"I thought you were bluffing." She glared at him and replied,

"I always say what I mean and do what I say."

He was freshly shaven and dressed in jeans, black tee and black Converse.

_'Why does he have to look so sexy?'_

Even from where she stood, she could smell the pleasant scent of his aftershave. Before her thoughts took over, she announced,

"I'm moving in, as I said."

"You can't do that! The locksmith hasn't gotten here yet…"

"Have you even called him as yet?"

"N-no," He stammered. "I didn't really think you'd have the gumption…"

"Oh, I've got gumption, Mr. Evans. Carmen, can you message the locksmith and have him come over and change the locks on Sue's door?"

The maid looked at Sam.

"You heard the lady," he snapped.

"Thank you." Mercedes dismissed them both, with a polite nod and continued up the stairs.

* * *

Half-dressed girls poked their heads out of their rooms, eyes wide and mouths open. They were of all heights and all hair colors, and all of them were pretty.

Mercedes gestured to one of them, a petite brunette.

"Can you please direct me to Miss Sue's room?" Instead, the girl looked helplessly over the open balcony and asked,

"Sam, what should I…?"

"Rachel, show the lady to Sue's room!" he thundered from below. He sounded furious. Good. Mercedes cheered internally.

"Thank you." She smiled down at him.

"You are not welcome! He shouted. "By the way, Miss Jones, we serve lunch around here at noon precisely. That way, we can open the Lily in the late afternoon for the first customers."

"Fine. Set a place for me." He turned away and marched off in the other direction, without uttering another word.

* * *

The girls were still staring open-mouthed, as the petite brunette, named Rachel, led her into a large bedroom.

"This Is Miss Sue's room, but…"

"And now, it's my room. I am Mercedes Jones, Miss Sue's niece and you are?"

"Rachel," the girl said and stared in curiosity, as Mercedes put her suitcase on the bench at the end of the bed.

"I think we are going to be friends, Rachel," Mercedes said, looking around.

"We are?"

"Despite what Mr. Evans may have told you, I am here to champion the cause of the working girl."

"Huh?"

Rachel wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, Mercedes thought sympathetically, but then, there was a distinct possibility, that none of these girls had any real education or any home-making skills.

No doubt, all of their skills were directed towards a mattress.

* * *

"Rachel, it is not polite to say 'huh'…a lady says, I beg your pardon." Rachel nodded and remained silent.

The pretty sneering blonde, called Quinn, sauntered in and leaned against the door jamb, smoking her cigarette.

"We ain't got no ladies here," she said. This one would be a major challenge, Mercedes thought. She smiled at her anyway.

"You can all be ladies, with a little training." Rachel looked hopeful.

"We can?"

"Certainly," Mercedes said, smiling at her.

"You hear that, Quinn?"

"Don't get your hopes up, Rach. We got a good place here and we don't want it changed." Mercedes was not one to be pushed. She had a backbone made of steel.

"We'll see about that. You two can go and we'll talk at lunch. By the way, ladies do not smoke."

"I ain't no lady," the blonde snapped.

Both girls left and Mercedes inspected the door as she closed it.

* * *

It was a heavy, sturdy door, that would be impossible to break down, once a good lock is put on it.

Not that she thought any man would break down a door to get to her.

She sighed.

She couldn't even imagine a man bothering enough to turn the doorknob.

At twenty-eight, she had long ago resigned herself to being an old maid.

She looked around the room. It was a large pleasant room, overly done in wine and pink brocades silk.

A thick Persian rug covered the floor and the scent of perfume lingered in the air.

It looked like a room decorated by a Madam. Mercedes was shocked to realize, she really liked the decorating.

Her room back home was small, bare and sparse, compared to this one, she silently admitted.

* * *

She started to unpack her things, wishing she had more nicer things to wear. And then she remembered, she had money, she could buy what she needed.

After she'd hung her few clothes in the closet and placed the others in the bureau, she discovered a wealth of expensive gowns, shoes and delicate lace underwear.

Her Aunt's things.

She sighed and stroked one of the fine silk gowns.

_'Paid for by the wages of sin,' _she thought.

She had never really known her aunt, she thought, and wondered how and why she had ended up in this life. What was it Sam Evans had said?

_'Don't judge someone until you have walked a mile in their boots.'_

Yet, she was ashamed and angry at Aunt Sue, for embarrassing her and her mother with her terrible lifestyle.

_'But the money she's left, had to come from the wages of sin,' _a voice inside her head said. She shook her head, as if to clear it and leaned against the ornate bedpost, recalling the scent of Sam's aftershave and the passion in his green eyes.

_'Careful!' _she silently admonished herself. Sam was not a man to be trifled with.

* * *

She rang for the maid, while she laid out a pair of leggings and a plain purple tee.

She thumbed through her aunt's clothes. There were lots of satins and silks, in many shades of blue and green. The woman had been tall and a bit voluptuous, and even if she wanted to, Mercedes couldn't wear any of those clothes.

She was definitely too short.

Plus, where would she go in them?

There were no guys beating down her door, not even in the recent past.

* * *

Carmen entered then, and brought her a tray with drinks and snacks.

"I don't know about you taking over Miss Sue's room," she muttered.

"I'm sorry, but there isn't any other place for me," Mercedes said and smiled. "Were you with my aunt long?"

"More than twenty-five years. She rescued me from something terrible. I know more about her than anyone else in the whole world. I also know about you…"

Her voice trailed off.

"Oh? Did my aunt speak about me?"

"More than you know."

The maid abruptly departed the room, leaving a puzzled Mercedes.

* * *

The handful of times she seen her aunt, there was something brewing between her and Mercedes' mother.

In the time that Mercedes' mom had been sick and ailing, not once had Sue given them a thought. Mercedes reasoned…she was too busy with her rich wastrel life.

And here Mercedes was, right in the middle of that same life. Her mother would've had a conniption, knowing she was actually going to live in a whorehouse.

"It won't be for long," she assured herself, as she headed for the shower.

* * *

The little clock on the bedside table was saying noon, when a bell rang downstairs and the maid called out,

"Lunch is on the table ladies."

Mercedes looked at herself in the long mirror by the closet door and sighed. Sometimes, she forgot how plain she looked, and now, she was in a place full of winsome beauties.

But, in her black leggings and her snug tee, she was still respectable.

It was going to take some courage to deal with these poor soiled doves…and especially, with Sam Evans. But she'd had a grim, joyless life, as long as she could remember, so she was used to adversity.

On a whim, she decided to release her hair from that tight, severe bun, she's always worn.

Her hair fell to her shoulders and immediately her features was transformed.

For a moment, she was tempted to put it back the way it was, but she decided to let it be and throw caution to the wind.

* * *

She went out her door and paused, looking down.

Except for the poker tables, the billiard table and the ornate bar off to one side, it was a magnificent room.

The stained-glass and the waxed floors, looked like a waiting room, or a foyer at a fine hotel.

She paused at the railing, noting it had been repaired and wondered about it.

* * *

Below her, Sam Evans appeared.

He was taken aback at her appearance. He licked his lips, shook his head and schooled his features.

"Miss Jones," he said, looking up. "We're holdin' lunch for you."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

"You're looking over where Sue fell."

"She fell? From here?" He nodded.

"About where you're standing." Mercedes took a step backwards.

"Oh God!"

She came down the stairs and he waited for her at the bottom.

He held out his toned arm and she took it awkwardly. Immediately they both reacted as if they'd had a mild shock. But both said nothing.

* * *

Sam led her into another magnificent room, with a beautiful chandelier, hanging directly over a big, round, golden oak table, where the girls were already seated.

"Ladies, may I present Miss Mercedes Jones. She's gonna be with us a day or two…"

"Or maybe more," she said, smiling at the curious beauties. "Good day, ladies," she finished.

"We ain't ladies," Quinn said, as she glared at her and put both elbows on the table.

"She said we could be," Rachel, the little brunette said. Quinn snorted.

"You dummy, don't believe everything you hear. Don't you know a do-gooder when you see one?"

"Behave yourself, Quinn," Sam started. And then, pulled out Mercedes' chair, so she could sit down. Quinn subsided and poked food in her mouth, roughly.

* * *

There were seven young women at the table.

Besides Quinn and Rachel, there was a tall blonde-haired girl, a pair of brown-haired twins, a strawberry blonde and a Hispanic.

They all stared at her with bold curiosity.

There was an awkward silence, as Sam sat down at the head of the table.

"Miss Jones, I hear you've met Rachel and I know you've met Quinn. The tall one is Elaine, the twins are, Faith and Fern, the strawberry blonde is, Michelle and the exotic beauty is Eva."

Mercedes nodded and smiled.

"Nice to meet you all," she politely said. And Quinn glared back.

"Just what do you think you're gonna do here?" The others watched and waited. Mercedes forced herself to smile.

"Well, Miss Quinn, I haven't completely decided yet. I have ideas…but when I do, I'll discuss it with all of you ladies."

"I'm the most popular among the local guys," Quinn offered.

"Says you," the twins challenged Quinn. Mercedes made eye contact with Quinn and said to her,

"I have no doubt you are." Sam could feel the tension in the room. He pasted a stern look on his face.

"Ladies!" Sam glared at them, and they all settled down.

"I'm sure, we'll all get to be good friends. As I said, I have ideas," Mercedes said. Again, they looked at her curiously, while Sam smiled ever so slightly.

"Ladies, Miss Jones is Sue's niece from Lima. She's inherited Sue's half of the business." Quinn side-eyed Mercedes and said,

"She don't look like she can hold a candle to Sue." Mercedes stared her down, her brown eyes ablaze with fire.

"We'll see about that," she said, a threat clear in her tone.

At that the table went quiet, with everyone seemingly lost in their individual thoughts.

* * *

**Quinn has showed her claws. Let's see if she can hold a candle to Mercedes. Much love to you!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you for your continued support. And special thanks to dorknhime, Emma, Mowatts87, monni2215, and HomiesOverHoes for showing this story some love. I appreciate it more than I could say.**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

Lunch wore on at the Texas Lily.

At Mercedes' elbow, Carmen was waiting with a giant bowl of mashed potatoes, so she helped herself to some. She also took slices of roast beef, when it was passed to her and politely asked,

"Did you cook this, Mr. Evans?"

"No, but I raised it." He gave her a dazzling smile. "Please call me Sam. All the ladies do." She gave him a cold stare.

"Mr. Evans is fine, and you may continue to call me Miss Jones." Sam sighed.

She looked around the table, realizing that the girls were dressed in sexy low-cut clothes. She's never felt as dowdy and homely, as she did right now.

"Some men would feel their masculinity threatened by an apron." Sam simply grinned again.

"Now, Miss Jones, do I look as if my masculinity is lacking?"

"I promise you it ain't," Quinn tossed in and all the girls laughed. Mercedes felt her face flush.

"It was not a personal enquiry. I can assure you, Mr. Evans." Her tone was as cold as ice.

* * *

Carmen came through the kitchen door, just then, carrying another giant tray, full of meat this time.

That was followed by hot rolls, gravy, all sorts of vegetables and huge glasses of iced tea.

Sam dug into his food, like a man who likes to eat, but then, all his passions were big, Mercedes thought critically.

He was probably like Falstaff in that Shakespearean play…with a huge appetite for women, food and drink.

* * *

The girls were now chatting with each other, while Mercedes ate daintily.

The gambler frowned and gestured with his knife.

"Miss Jones, eat up, there's plenty more."

She hadn't meant to, but she found herself eating heartily after that.

The girls were too busy eating and chatting to pay much attention to her. They talked and laughed like a bunch of magpies.

Mercedes winced at their table manners and their grammar. There would certainly be a lot to teach them, to turn them into respectable women.

* * *

Just when she thought she couldn't eat another a bite, Carmen appeared with a huge chocolate cake.

"I really don't think…" she began, but Sam cut her off and gave her thick slice.

"Eat up," he commanded. "A little more here, or there, won't matter." The girls giggled and smiled at him. Evidently, in their eyes, the rascal could do no wrong.

"Mr. Evans," Mercedes said coldly. "Don't you know it's rude to comment on a lady's physical…"

"I'm just worried about you. You don't have to eat sparingly here. I'm a ladies' man, remember…doesn't matter what size, shape or color," he grinned.

She stared him down, in a disapproving way, but he went on,

"After all, if something happens to one of us, the other gets both halves of the Lily. By the way, Mercedes seems very stuffy. You look more like a Mercy to me."

Mercedes wanted to slap him. Her hands itched to do it.

"My name is Mercedes, but you may call me Miss Jones."

She kept her voice frosty, which was difficult between bites of the delicious chocolate cake. She pinned him in a stare and said with finality,

"Mr. Evans, we need to talk."

"Again? And please call me Sam."

Again, he gave her a warm charming smile, that was so full of animal magnetism, her hands shook, as she sipped her iced tea. She drew in a calming breath and silently told herself,

_'That might work on these young, daffy girls, but I'm a mature young woman…and I'm not easily taken in by some four-flusher.'_

* * *

The girls had just about finished chattering amongst themselves and now, they all got up and left the table without asking to be excused, or waiting for the host to leave the table first.

They were manner-less, so to speak. They all seemed friendly though, except for Quinn, who had glared at Mercedes all through lunch.

She seemed to see her as an interloper…a threat, competing for Sam's attention.

_'As if I would consider…' _But in her mind, she was naked in his bed and he was kissing her roughly, his big hands pulling her to him…

"Miss Jones, are you alright? You're trembling." He was staring at her, as if he could read her thoughts. She felt the blood rush to her face.

"It…it's cold." She could kick herself for sounding so damn silly. It was the middle of the year and very warm.

"Cold? It's almost June," he said.

"Never mind," she snapped and let out a breath. "Mr. Evans, after much thought, I have decided on what I'm going to do with my half of the establishment."

"Good." He wiped his mouth and lay his napkin next to his plate. "Your aunt had a head for business. If we must be partners, I'm glad to hear you're taking an interest."

"More than you know." She smiled at him. He shifted in his chair, a bit uneasy. Obviously, he didn't trust her, but that smile of hers, would be his undoing.

"The locksmith will be here right after dinner," he offered.

"Good. I'm pleased to hear that."

He leaned towards her and smiled, and she took a deep breath. The sheer animal magnetism of the man made her uneasy and she shifted in her chair.

Sam picked up on it. He decided to play with her. Smiling, he said,

"Surely, Miss Mercy, you wouldn't think that I would push myself up to a lady? I'm a southerner and I do have some sense of propriety." She snorted.

"I doubt you know the meaning of the word." He grinned broadly.

"Whatever I lack in formal education, Miss Jones, I'm sure I make up for it in the school of Hard Knocks. I may have come from a poor family…what others call white trash, but I've always believed that a man should be judged by his actions, not his ancestry."

"In that case, you would've probably been hanged, a long time ago." She stood, giving him a cold, hard look. "As I said before, I have decided."

"Good." His smile was genuine. "I've got a few ideas myself, on improving the business and…"

"No, no, Mr. Evans. You don't understand. I wasn't bluffing. I intend to close the upstairs and help these women, in every way I can."

* * *

Sam Evans' face went pale, stony, and then dark.

"What? You're serious?"

"Yes, you heard me. From now on, the upstairs is off limits to men. I will go up and inform the ladies, that from tonight, we will have classes in my room instead."

"You will ruin my business, Miss Jones."

"I'm not bothering your half, Mr. Evans. Just remember, I own the upstairs. Good day to you."

A slew of curse words followed her, as she walked briskly towards the stairs and disappeared up them.

Sam sat watching the space where he had lost sight of her, with a murderous look on his face. His fists were clenched and every visible vein seemed to be bulging.

He wanted to go after her and drag her back, so that they could hash things out. But he knew he had to cool off first.

There was no way in hell, he could try reasoning with her, wound this tight. This wasn't finished, not by a long shot.

* * *

**Mercedes is bound and determined to do what she says. Poor Sam, this is the first woman he's ever had to deal with, that he couldn't charm. And Quinn, still trying to be vindictive and as rude as ever, towards Mercedes.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you for your continued interest in this and my other stories. The previous chapter was a tad short, so I decided to post this as well. **

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

He was going to kill that woman, even if they executed him, Sam thought grimly, as he watched the locksmith come down the stairs.

No jury, who had met Miss Jones, would blame him…they might've even help him...

"Alright Sam, the lock is changed on the door for the lady. I got to charge extra, since it's Sunday evening. She's something, ain't she?"

"You got that right, Luke," Sam said chewing his lip. "I could think of more appropriate names to call her, though," he finished.

"A respectable woman like that, is really gonna be living here?" Sam sighed.

"She says she's gonna save the girls."

"From what?"

"A life of degradation, whatever the hell that means." Luke scratched his head with his lanky arm.

"The boys ain't gonna like this." Sam snorted.

"You think I do?"

"Well, she's moved the furniture around in the room, setting up chairs. She says she's gonna teach the girls."

"I reckon they could teach her a thing or two," Sam said and snickered. "But she'd never let them…too staid and respectable," he said, doing air quotes.

"I'll send you the bill and…"

* * *

Just then, they looked up to see Mercedes Jones marching down the stairs, carrying a big red ribbon.

The two stared in stunned silence, as she tied it to one banister, and strung it across the stairs and tied it to the other, blocking the stairs.

A sign hung on the big red ribbon. It read, _**'UPSTAIRS CLOSED TO MEN.' **_

She gave each a nod and went back up the stairs, head held high.

"Well, I'll be damned, Sam said, and swore under his breath. Luke stared at the ribbon.

"Does that mean what I think it means?" Sam nodded.

"She's got principles. I don't know how to deal with that, and the damned stubborn woman won't get on a train, or a plane and leave. She's as ornery, as old Sherwin the goat."

Luke shrugged and grinned.

"I thought you were the stubbornest person I ever met, but I was wrong. I don't envy you, Sam. This should be very interesting to watch."

"For you, maybe."

"The boys is layin' bets."

"What?"

"The guys from the game and a few more."

"Tell them not to bet against me," Sam seethed. "I'm not gonna be bested by some old maid schoolteacher."

"She's got jet-black hair," the other said. And then, "Brunettes and dark-haired women, are so damn hard to reason with."

"You think I can't see that? But it don't mean nothin'. Sam Evans have never met a woman he couldn't charm, and this one ain't no different."

"Folks around town say she is."

"Folks around town got too much time on their hands," Sam grumbled.

Luke left and the rest of the Sunday evening was tense, to say the least.

* * *

The Lily wasn't open on Sundays, so Sam stayed in his office and played solitaire.

He could hear the girls upstairs reading from some type of reading material…all but Quinn. She actually came to his office, trying to flirt with him, but he ignored her.

"Hey there, honey," she said, lighting a cigarette. "You think she'll stick with it?"

"Be careful with that smoke," he grumbled. "You'll burn something down one day. Does Miss Jones look like the kind who bluffs?"

Quinn turned and looked towards the stairs.

"So, when we open up tomorrow night, does that red banner stay?"

"We'll see."

He'd considered ripping it down himself, and remembered, she owned the upstairs. He sighed and continued playing solitaire, whilst ignoring Quinn.

* * *

At precisely seven o'clock on Monday morning, Mercedes dressed in one of her no-nonsense plain dark dresses, with her hair back in a bun, and went downstairs, to find Carmen sipping coffee by the back door.

"Morning Carmen. What time do you usually serve breakfast?" "The girls and Mr. Sam ain't never up before noon...or almost. they work late at night, you know?"

"Well, there's going to be a few changes around here, now that I'm half owner. What did my aunt like to do with her mornings?" Carmen stood up looking sad.

"Miss Sue liked to get out and work in her front garden, early, before anyone else was up…her and old Sherwin the goat."

"I've met the goat."

Mercedes didn't think much of her aunt's gardening. All that grew out front around that big birdbath, were those common orange day lilies. Aunt Sue could've at least grown something fancier, like roses.

"I'm going to start classes for the girls, so from now on, Carmen, breakfast should be served promptly at seven." Carmen looked incredulous.

"In the morning?"

"Of course, in the morning…like the rest of the world."

"Mr. Sam ain't gonna like that. I don't believe he will get up that early, even if it was the end of the world."

She shook her grey head, emphasizing her point. But the thought pleased Mercedes.

"Mr. Sam is no longer in complete control here. From now on, I'll wake the girls up and you get breakfast ready."

The old woman sighed and threw the dregs of her coffee into the grass.

"Yes, ma'am, but Mr. Sam…"

"I know, I know, he won't like it." Mercedes smiled and wiped her hands briskly on her dress. "It's just too bad, but the upstairs is my property."

The old woman shrugged.

"Miss Mercedes, I'd advise you not to tangle with Mr. Sam."

"On the contrary," Mercedes said, as she paused in the doorway, "You'd better advise him not to tangle with me." Carmen nodded, a slight smile on her wrinkled face.

"You know, you aren't Miss Sue's blood, but you sure acts like her. She didn't take no sass off nobody."

Mercedes winced at the comparison.

She really wanted to distance herself as much as possible, from her wayward aunt.

"Thank you for your time Carmen. I will now awaken the household."

With that, she marched inside, found the dinner bell, went to the bottom of the stairs and rang it as hard and as rapidly she could.

* * *

Upstairs, doors flew open and the girls stuck their heads out of their rooms.

"What the hell is happening? Is the hotel on fire?" Some of the girls were asking and then, some started screaming.

Mercedes waited at the foot of the stairs, looking up as the girls ran out of their rooms, pulling on robes.

"Everyone calm down…there is no fire, or any emergency." Quinn blinked and ran her hand through her hair.

"Then what the hell is going on?" she asked. As politely as she could, Mercedes said,

"Profanity is the mark of a small vocabulary and ladies do not use it."

"Huh?" Now all seven were hanging over the railing looking at her.

"Never mind," Mercedes said. "We'll discuss that later. Carmen will be serving breakfast shortly."

"This early?" Rachel asked, acting as though she didn't know people ate before ten in the morning.

* * *

Just then, Sam stumbled out of his downstairs room, blinking and pulling on his shirt.

"Carmen, what's going on? Did someone say the hotel was on fire?" Carmen frowned and gestured towards Mercedes.

"Ask her. She says breakfast is gonna be served this time every morning from now on."

Sam paused in buttoning his shirt and stared at Mercedes, as if he'd never seen her before.

"What in the name of hell…?"

"This is the time respectable people get up, Mr. Evans."

"Dear God…"

"You do know about respectable people…"

"Not as much as you do, apparently," he complained. Quinn called down the stairs.

"Sam, honey, tell that woman that we don't have to…"

"I am half owner of the Texas Lily, now. So, I can make some of the rules. Now, everyone come down to breakfast. I have some announcements."

Sam looked put-out and angry.

"Couldn't your announcements have waited until about noon?"

"Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy wealthy and wise." Sam swore under his breath.

"I don't even have shoes on."

"Then go get them," Mercedes said. _'Too sexy for your own good,' _she thought to her self, as he turned and went back to his room.

She fanned herself and headed to the table.

* * *

Grumbling and complaining, the girls and Sam stumbled to the dining room, where Carmen was now putting out plates and pouring coffee. Sam plopped down in his chair.

"Miss Jones, this is outrageous. Nobody gets up at this time of the day, except for roosters and…"

"Now, how would you know, Mr. Evans?" Mercedes asked, a little too sweetly. "I doubt if you've ever been up at this time, unless you had never gone to bed, after a long night of poker."

He grumbled again and reached for his coffee.

Mercedes took her place and motioned for the girls to do the same. They were a tired, bleary-looking lot, with hair undone and old make-up still smeared on their faces.

"Tomorrow, ladies, you will come to the table dressed and your faces washed." Eva looked at her and said,

"Ma'am, I think you missed your calling. You ought to be warden at the women's prison." The others laughed. But Mercedes took it in stride.

"I was acting headmistress…well, principal at the school where I teach…which is not much different," Mercedes said and sipped her coffee. And then,

"But I seriously doubt that."

"What did you say about being someone's mistress?" Sam said, seemingly coming out of a sleepy fog. The girls giggled and Mercedes frowned.

"Mr. Evans, do your thoughts ever get above your belt buckle?" He grinned and sipped his coffee.

"I was just trying to imagine you in a compromising situation." She felt her face burn.

"I would never allow myself to be in a compromising situation."

"Ain't that the truth," Sam muttered, and the girls laughed again.

* * *

Mercedes decided to ignore him.

She looked around the table, favoring the unkempt girls with a smile.

"Today, we begin classes, ladies."

"We ain't ladies," Quinn snapped, as she reached across the table for the sugar bowl, in front of Mercedes.

"All of you should aspire to become ladies. And Quinn, to be polite, you should have asked me to pass you the sugar."

"Why? I managed to reach it myself." Mercedes took a deep breath for patience, while the other girls giggled again.

"I have decided, I cannot in good conscience make a living off girls, who are at the mercy of a bunch of men, whose only aspiration, is to slake their lust on them."

"What?" A few of them asked in unison, staring blankly at her.

"No!" Sam said.

"Yes!" Mercedes replied and sipped her coffee.

"What?" asked the girls again.

"What Miss Mercy means," Sam started, frowning. "Is that, she thinks you shouldn't get paid for screwing, anymore." Mercedes winced.

"Please watch your language, Mr. Evans."

The entire table gave her blank, puzzled looks. This was going to be more difficult than she'd originally thought.

* * *

"I know you girls can read and write, but…"

"The guys don't care if we can read or write," Quinn stated. "Why should you?"

"When you can read and write, people won't be able to cheat you…" Sam slammed his cup down on the table. He looked angry.

"These girls are educated, Miss Jones. And nobody cheats my girls, or they'd deal with me."

All of the girls turned and looked at him, sighing with adoration. For some reason, that annoyed Mercedes.

"These aren't your girls. And ladies, education should always be your first order of business. You can get a good job with it. I know, you know that."

"I have a good job already," Quinn quipped.

"I mean a _respectable_ job…and maybe, some of you would like to get married."

"Married?" Sam said the word as if it was dirty.

"Yes, married." All the girls except for Quinn, looked at her, their faces hopeful. Then their faces fell, when Rachel said,

"Men don't marry girls like us…we're whores."

* * *

Mercedes felt as though she had been slapped, at the harsh word. Yet, that was what her aunt had been.

How could Aunt Sue have fallen so low? Why couldn't she have remained respectable like her older sister?

"Well, if you look like ladies and behave like ladies, each of you could get a husband, or at least a better job."

"And just, how in the hell…pardon my French," Quinn started, pouring her coffee in a saucer and slurping it up. "How are we supposed to make a living, while you're teaching us how to be respectable?"

"Yeah, how?" Sam asked leaning back in his chair and grinning at Quinn's logic. Mercedes took a deep breath.

"Besides half the Lily, my aunt left me some money. I will pay your expenses for several months, while you change your lives."

* * *

Sam and the girls looked at her in astonishment. The tall blonde, Elaine asked,

"You'd do that for us?"

"I will. In fact, I feel it is my civic duty, to help you out of this life of degradation and…"

"Now wait just a damn minute," Sam said, glaring at her. "The Lily is one of the best in Texas, ain't it, girls?"

"Yeah, we like it here," Quinn stated.

"See?" Sam said, with smug satisfaction and sipped his coffee.

"That's because, these girls have never known a better life…and I blame my aunt for that. Like I told you before, Mr. Evans, the upstairs is closed to men. I own up there, so I get the final say." Sam sighed heavily and rolled his eyes.

"You do realize, Miss Jones, that if the girls don't mingle with the customers, lots of men will avoid the Lily and go down to the Bucket O' Blood, for drinks and gambling?"

"I can't be responsible for that," she said. She turned to the maid, who was standing with her mouth open. "Carmen, you may serve the oatmeal and after that, we swill begin classes."

"Well, I'll be damned!" Sam muttered. Mercedes smiled.

"You probably will be, Mr. Evans, but keep in mind, technically, I'm not interfering with your half of the business."

"The hell you aren't. No man will want to come in for a drink and a little gambling, if there are no girls to take upstairs."

"That's your problem." She smiled coldly. "Ladies, enjoy your breakfast. Classes begin at nine o'clock in Mr. Evans' office. My room is too small."

"Hell no! You ain't taking over my office…"

"Well, I suppose we could set up chairs around the poker tables. Of course, that might interfere with the gambling."

"You wouldn't?" Sam challenged.

"Try me."

_'Lady, you are pure evil.' _He sighed audibly.

"Alright, you win. You can use my office." Quinn slammed her cup down.

"Well, you can count me out. I'm not gonna read no books like some prissy schoolgirl. And nobody's gonna tell me how I can earn my living. Ain't that right, girls?"

The others kept silent, except for the strawberry blonde, Michelle. In a soft voice, she said,

"I've always wanted a better life." Mercedes regarded Quinn calmly.

"You may do whatever you wish, my dear. But there'll be no men upstairs tonight, or any other night. However, any girl who doesn't like how I intend to run my half of this business, is welcomed to move out."

"Sam, honey," Quinn said. "You gonna let her talk to me like that?" Sam shrugged in defeat.

"It's her half of the business."

That shut her up.

They ate breakfast in stunned silence.

Only Sam grumbled as he ate, about damn stubborn, short women.

Mercedes ignored him.

She was already making her plans in her head.

She had been teaching music, some grammar and etiquette for a few years and she could certainly teach these girls…and help them to better their lives, even if she spent all her inheritance doing so.

And neither Sam Evans nor that silly blonde Quinn, could stop her.

* * *

**That's it for this chapter. Much love to you.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you for your kind support and your excellent reviews.**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

By eight-thirty, everyone had left the table and retreated to their rooms and Sam was still muttering under his breath.

Inside Mercedes' room, she grabbed a few pencils, notebooks and some reading material. At nine o'clock sharp, she went to the bottom of the stairs and rang the dinner bell.

"Ladies, it's time," she called out. Everyone but Quinn, trooped down the stairs, most looking a little uncertain. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Rachel asked,

"You really think you can teach us something, Miss Jones? Most of us didn't get very far in school."

"Of course, I can, Rachel," she assured her with a pat on the shoulder. "This isn't that difficult and I'm sure you're a smart girl."

"Good. Cause, my dads won't let me come home, unless I better myself."

"I don't own any books," one of the twins offered.

"Don't worry. I have a few and I'm sure I can find some around town, but really, you don't need them. Don't you ladies have any other clothes?"

They examined their bright, revealing dresses and shook their heads.

"We don't have any reason to wear anything else," Rachel said. Mercedes frowned.

"I will take you shopping. Now let's get to work."

* * *

Sam was seated behind his desk, but grudgingly stepped out, leaving the office to the women. Mercedes passed out pencils and papers.

"Some of you could become teachers, nurses…or if you have a talent…" She caught herself there. "I mean...other talents, you could follow your dream."

"Who'd hire a bunch of whores," Fern asked.

"You aren't anymore. From now on, you'll be ladies and you'll get a fresh start…and when you leave here, no one will care about your past…people might not even know of it."

"How come you ain't married?" Fern asked. "What good does it do to be educated and respectable, if we end up like you?" she finished.

"I have chosen to be a single woman," Mercedes said, loftily.

It wasn't quite true, but these girls didn't have to know that no one asked her.

Besides, her standards were incredibly high. She was looking for a well-bred, polished gentleman.

From where she stood by the window, she could see Sam out in the garden, rubbing the head of the old goat. He was the furthest thing from that.

Maybe the Lieutenant…

After a while, the girls were dismissed, until after dinner, when their talents would be explored, and worked on, to be perfected as time went on.

* * *

Mercedes sat down behind the desk with a sigh.

She enjoyed teaching, and the girls seemed pathetically eager to learn and better themselves.

Dealing with Sam Evans was her biggest problem.

She didn't think he'd let her cut into his profits without a fight. But she didn't intend to back down from the handsome devil, come what may.

* * *

It was almost noon.

She heard Carmen ringing the lunch bell.

This was as good a time as any, to work on table manners.

If these girls were to ever blend back into society, they would have to learn table manners.

Everyone was already gathered around the table, when Mercedes joined them.

"We had a good class this morning, ladies. I'm going to assign you some things to do on your own and dismiss you for the afternoon. Now, as Carmen serves, we will learn how a proper lady eats."

Quinn gave her the stink-eye and coldly said,

"We know how to eat."

"She's teaching us to be ladies, Quinn," Fern said.

"I don't wanna be no lady."

"At this rate, you'll never be," Mercedes started. "You can start by getting your elbows off the table."

Quinn defiantly kept her elbows on the table. Mercedes ignored her and said,

"Ladies, you don't tuck your napkin in the top of your clothes, you spread it on your lap."

All eyes turned to Sam, who had his tucked into his shirt collar. He reached up and yanked it out.

"I knew that," he said. The girls giggled and Mercedes rolled her eyes.

* * *

Carmen began serving bowls of chili.

Fern started eating, as soon as hers was put before her, so did Sam. Mercedes ignored him.

"Fern," she softly said, "It's polite to wait until everyone has been served, before you begin to eat. And dip your spoon away from you."

Sam and Quinn glared at her, but the others complied.

"Look," Faith said, "Are we doing it right?" Mercedes smiled.

"Yes, you are. You all could eat soup at the best hotel in New York, without embarrassing yourselves."

"I ain't embarrassed," Quinn snapped. The other girls turned and stared her down. Rachel said,

"Why do to be so difficult?" Quinn snorted.

"Why? You'll still be nothing but whores. Who're you kidding?"

"That's not very kind," Mercedes said to her.

"And who are you kidding? Your aunt was the biggest whore in Texas."

Mercedes heard the others draw quick breaths and she felt tears come to her own eyes. Surprisingly, Sam stepped in.

"Shut up Quinn. Sue was a helluva lot better person than you'll ever be."

With a curse, Quinn stood up from the table, ran out of the room and up the stairs.

There was an awkward silence afterwards. Mercedes looked at Sam and said,

"Thank you." He shrugged.

"I didn't do it for you. I don't like anybody judging Sue Sylvester. She did what she had to do, to survive and take care of others too."

They finished the lunch in silence and the girls scattered throughout the hotel.

* * *

Mercedes went upstairs to get her parasol, then she went to the kitchen and looked in the door.

"Carmen, lunch was lovely." The old woman grinned at her.

"I don't have to work here, you know. Miss Sue left me plenty of money."

"I know. Thank you for staying on."

"I owe it to Miss Sue," the old woman said. And then, "We all owe her a lot." Mercedes didn't say anything for a few seconds. Finally, she said,

"I'm going out. I'll see about finding a nice place for the girls to shop."

"For these girls?"

"Yes. They need nicer things to wear." She started to walk away. Carmen asked,

"Aren't you taking the car?"

"No, it's a nice day. I'll walk."

"Miss Mercedes, for what it's worth, I think Miss Sue would have closed down the upstairs, too. But she had big obligations to see about."

"What kind of obligations?" The old lady hesitated and then got very busy at the sink.

"Never mind." Mercedes waited, but Carmen said nothing more.

"You aren't going to tell me?"

"If Miss Sue wanted you to know, she would have told you." She gave Mercedes a long look. "Sometimes the past just needs to bury itself."

That didn't make any sense to Mercedes, but Carmen said nothing more.

* * *

After a moment, she opened her parasol to protect herself from the hot sun, and went out on the front porch. Sam glowered at her from the porch swing.

"You self-righteous... You don't really think you can change those girls lives, do you?"

"Thank you for your compliment," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "But, I'm at least going to try…which is more than you've done, Mr. Evans."

"Most of them were already working here when I came, and they were glad for the job."

"I think they are eager for a change."

"Look lady, if they weren't working here, they'd be on their backs in some other place worse than this." Mercedes felt her face flame.

"You're just sore because I'm about to cut into your profits."

"Aha! You admitted it."

"Your profits are not my problem."

She went down the steps and walked briskly down the street, passed the big birdbath and Sherwin happily munching on the day lilies in the front yard.

The beauty of the day brought happiness to her and she started to hum, as she walked along.

* * *

Mercedes found herself in one of the local general stores, shortly after.

A short man, with a face like a bulldog, and bushy eyebrows, came out from the back.

"You must be Miss Jones, Sue's niece," he said. Surprise masked her features. "News travel fast in a small town. I'll bet Sam doesn't like that."

He wiped his hands on his white apron.

"Everyone seems very concerned about what Mr. Evans likes…everyone but me."

"He ain't used to having women rule him, ma'am. Mostly, they just swoon and do whatever he wants." She smiled a little too sweetly.

"Swell, here's one who won't. Now, I'd like to find out about the clothes stores around town."

"Yes ma'am. Are you looking for a nice dress or two, for you?"

"Maybe, but I want to take the girls at the Lily on a little shopping trip. They need more modest clothes."

"Oh, Sam ain't gonna like…"

"Like that? Changes are being made at the Lily." He nodded.

"Will already told me."

"Does everyone in this town gossip about everybody's business?" She was a bit put-out.

"It's a small town. What else are we gonna do?" He grinned and threw his hands in the air. "What are you intending to do with those girls, Miss?"

"I'm going to turn them into ladies."

"Ladies?"

"Yes, ladies."

"Wow! Sam ain't gonna…"

"I know, I know. But it's something Mr. Evans is going to have to learn to live with. I'm just as stubborn as he is."

* * *

Later that evening, the bartender and his two dealers, arrived at the Texas Lily for the evening shift. All three Texans stood staring at the big ribbon across the stairs.

"What the hell…?" One swore.

"Don't even ask," Sam snapped. "I'm just fixin' to go upstairs and deal with this."

He yanked the red ribbon aside and found that it was tied too tightly. So, he stooped to go under it.

He took the stairs two at a time and marched to Mercedes' door. He banged as hard as he could and shouted,

"Hey, in there!" Mercedes came to the door and opened it.

"Yes?" Behind her, Sam could see the girls, all but Quinn, sitting around the room with paper and pencils in their hands.

"Listen, about your damn banner on the stairs…"

"What did I tell you about swearing? It shows a limited…"

"So, you've told me." He brushed past her.

"I did not invite you into my room, sir." He ignored her.

"You, girls, why aren't you getting ready, and into your costumes? Customers will be arriving soon."

They all looked towards Mercedes, who was standing by the door with a pout on her lips.

"We're having classes, Mr. Evans."

"Oh, hell…"

"Uh-uh. Swearing is off-limits up here. I've already told you, the girls will not be coming down tonight, or any other night."

"But…"

"Also, any man who tries to come up the stairs…and that includes the back stairs, will wish he hadn't."

"What?"

"We've already discussed this. Are you forgetful or stupid?"

"Lady, I assure you, I'm neither. I didn't think you meant it. Girls, think of all that money you'll lose…"

"Sorry Sam. Miss Jones is using her own money to help us," Faith said and her twin nodded. "Most of us has got nothing. Our families don't want us at home, unless we clean up our act. And frankly, I'm tired of looking into a host of different guy's faces, every night," she finished.

"We're all gonna try and hopefully get better jobs. Who knows? We might find good men, to really care for us…"

"Yeah, we wanna be like Miss Jones," Rachel threw in.

* * *

Sam turned to Mercedes.

She was smiling.

Her brown eyes pierced his soul.

She had a lovely smile and a graceful neck for someone so short. Why had he never noticed this before?

For a long moment, he fought to control his temper.

He imagined putting his long fingers around that neck and giving her a good shake.

"You can't do this," he gritted.

"Course I can. And please leave my sign on the stairs, because, if any hooligan decides to come up here, I intend to whack him, with one of Carmen's big frying pans."

She gestured towards the iron skillet on her dresser.

"Now, would you please return to your whiskey and your cards, Mr. Evans? We're going to be working for the next several hours." Sam looked passed her, at the girls.

"Don't listen to her. You all got good lives, don't you? Why would you want to get married?"

"All women want to bet married," Michelle said.

"Miss Jones, I'll talk to my lawyer…" Mercedes smiled wider.

"We've already done that. Remember? I can assure you, I'm within my legal rights…"

"You don't understand. The guys won't come for drinks and cards, if there are no pretty ladies…"

"That's not my problem," Mercedes said and turned her back to him.

"Class, let's get back to our studies. Remember, a real lady never uses the word 'ain't'. You won't attract a real gentleman if you do. And later, I want to explore your talents."

"Sam uses the word 'ain't'," Rachel pointed out.

"Exactly. Case in point," she replied.

* * *

Sam was speechless and that was unusual for him.

It had never occurred to him, that the girls didn't love their jobs and would rather be doing something else, or worse, being housewives.

He'd always thought they were happy to work at the Lily. But he'd also thought, that in a showdown, Miss Jones would be bluffing.

Evidently not.

He turned and stomped back down the stairs, ducking under the banner, for the second time.

The two card dealers and the bartender were still standing there. Another guy, the piano player, had joined them.

"Don't even ask," Sam snapped.

"We ain't gonna have no girls tonight?" the bartender asked.

"No! Apparently, they're in school. That woman's got a set of principles on her...she makes me so mad," Sam said, marching over to the bar.

"Give me a whiskey," he said and the bartender came around behind the bar.

"You sure? You don't usually drink, Sam."

"That woman is driving me to do it. Now pour."

* * *

A handful of men were already leaning on the bar.

A couple of townsmen, a cowboy and two off-duty soldiers.

The piano player sat down at the piano and began playing _Let it Be._ Sam rolled his eyes at the selection.

"Hey Sam, drawled the cowboy. "What's the meaning of that banner on the stairs?"

"What does it look like? Sue's niece has taken over her share and she's closing down the upstairs. If you're gonna get any, you'll have to marry it," he grumbled.

"Marry?" All the men at the bar said, in unison and turned as pale as toads' bellies.

"We've still got poker, keno, music and good booze," Sam offered and then, "That's more than you can get in some places."

"If there ain't gonna be any girls, I ain't gonna stay," one of the off-duty soldiers said.

"And I could go down to the Bucket O' Blood. It ain't much, but it's got girls," said the cowboy.

"Boys, I've got no answers for you, at least not now," Sam said.

It was going to be a long night, he thought, as he took his drink over to the poker table and sat down.

"Hey, play something lively," he shouted to the piano player.

"Anything in particular, Sam?" the piano man asked. From upstairs, Sam could hear the girls laughing and singing.

"Just make it lively and loud."

* * *

Just then, Quinn came down the stairs, climbing over the ribbon.

She wore about enough tight red satin, to cover a broom handle, Sam thought.

The men let out a collective sigh of appreciation.

"Evenin' fellas," she said with a flirty smile on her face. She waggled her hips, as she crossed the floor and went to the bar. "Who wants to buy me a drink?"

There was a stampede to do so and Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He looked at the cowboy and said,

"See? The others will come down soon."

But, alas, they didn't.

Only Quinn and she amused the boys at the bar, and drifted from table to table. But not once did she try to take anyone upstairs.

* * *

The place grew crowded, but most of the guys left, when they discovered no more girls would come down.

One drunken guy decided to defy the red banner though, and went upstairs.

Sam watched from his poker table, as the poor devil was chased back down the same stairs, seconds later, by an angry and protective Miss Jones and her frying pan.

The guy tripped over the banner and fell on the floor, face down.

"And stay out!" She screamed after him. The piano player stopped playing and there was an uneasy silence, broken only by the girls' voices upstairs.

"…the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plains…." Sam shouted to the piano player then,

"Play something fast and loud," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," the piano-man replied and began belting out _Camp-town Races_ with vigor.

* * *

Sam had a difficult time keeping his mind on his poker game.

He began to lose, which was very unusual for him and it did nothing to improve his mood.

Will Shuester came into the Lily just then and looked around.

He ambled over to the poker table, looking upstairs as he did so.

"Sam?"

"Don't ask?"

"This is serious," Will said, pulling up a chair.

"Tell me about it. You see how small the crowd is tonight?"

"I see. It'll get smaller, when word gets around there's no upstairs action."

"Will, shut up. You ain't telling me anything I don't already know."

Len, the piano player had stopped playing, to have a beer and in the sudden silence, the faint sounds of the girls singing the scales drifted down the stairs.

Will's mouth fell open.

"Just what the hell…?"

"Don't you know cursing or swearing shows a limited vocabulary?" Sam voiced.

"Huh?" Will said.

"That's what _she_ said…Miss Jones. She's turning the girls into ladies…or trying to," Sam said. He frowned at the cards in his hand. No good.

"Miss Jones strikes me as pretty determined. The boys are all taking bets…"

"I already heard," Sam snapped and then, "Someone reshuffle that deck, so I can get a decent hand for a change."

"This woman is serious about ruining the local economy," Will said.

"I don't know what I can do with her. She won't take more money. Says she's got principles," Sam said defeatedly.

* * *

From upstairs, the sound of the girls chatting and one of them trying to sing, wafted downstairs.

Sam groaned aloud and yelled,

"Len, play something to drown that out."

The piano music started again and Sam gritted his teeth. There had to be a better solution for all, and he needed to come up with it.

* * *

**Sam is in a conundrum. What can he do?**


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you for your kind support, always. **

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

As Sam sat at the poker table, trying to come up with an amicable solution, to his current problem with Mercedes Jones, he surveyed the room and realized, business was indeed waning.

It will get worse, when word began to spread.

Will was still there and the two were joined by Luke the locksmith.

"Luke, can you come to a meeting in the morning? I'm rounding up a few guys, to see what we could come up with, to save our Lily," Will said. Luke smiled.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. You know, after I'd put the new lock on the lady's door…" Will stared incredulously at Sam. Cutting off Luke, he asked,

"There's a new lock on the lady's door? What's the matter Sam, losing your charm?" Sam bristled.

"I ain't…am not losing my charm."

_Damn woman's got me correcting myself. _

_"_You've seen her Will. She's so plain, she'd make a freight train take a dirt road to avoid her. No ladies' man would want to get into her room."

"Especially if she's got a new lock on the door," Will said and winked at Sam.

"I could have her if I wanted her," Sam started. "I just ain't…am not that desperate," he boasted, correcting himself again.

"That's right, after all, there's all them pretties that work here," Luke threw in. "If you live in a candy store, why would you eat plain cornbread?" he finished, and all the men guffawed.

"Remember she's put a lock on the candy counter, too. She's gonna marry the girls off," Sam said. "Any man who wants goodies around here, has to marry to get it," he finished.

* * *

A long moment of silence followed after, as each man contemplated, whether they needed loving that badly.

"Sam, I think you're going to have to offer her much more money, to get her to leave town," Will suggested. "I'll contribute," he finished.

"So will I," Luke said and then,

"Me too," was heard from a local rancher. After that, all the men started reaching in their pockets, but Sam waved them away.

"The lady has her mind set and we've got to be smart. All of you are welcomed to join the meeting tomorrow and we'll discuss it."

"How are we gonna get away from our wives, for the meeting," one asked.

"The same way I sneak off to come here," shouted another, pushing his spectacles back up on his thin nose.

"It'll be a town beautification meeting we're holding. Women are always in favor of improving the town," the same guy replied, grinning.

"You're not lying. It'll be much improved, if Miss Jones leaves. Now let's call it a night fellas. I'm tired," Sam said.

* * *

They closed early.

Even Quinn hadn't been able to drum up enough interest, when the men realized that they'd have to run the gauntlet passed Miss Jones' iron skillet, to go to Quinn's room.

As the stragglers paused for one last drink, Quinn leaned on the bar, smoking a thin cigarette with the biggest pout on her face.

* * *

Sam wandered into the kitchen, where Carmen was laying out some items for breakfast, the next morning.

"Mr. Sam, how are you?"

"Do you even need to ask?" He leaned on the kitchen counter, with a sour look on his face.

She grinned, poured him a glass of milk and handed him a freshly baked oatmeal cookie.

"She's getting to you, isn't she?" He shook his head.

"I'm not sure what to do about her. She's turning things upside down…she's so stubborn…and determined."

"She's a lot like Sue, even though they're not directly related."

"Yeah. And she's beginning to sound like her…sometimes. You think Sue did this to me as a joke?"

He took another cookie.

They were crisp and still warm from the oven.

The milk tasted cold and rich, so he dunked the cookie in it and savored it. Carmen shook her head from side to side.

"No, sir. I can guarantee Miss Sue thought the world of you, Mr. Sam. Another thing, she wouldn't have wanted her family to find out about her. I'm sure she thought Miss Mercedes would take the money and never come to Texas."

"Carmen, you knew Sue better than anybody. Do you think she hid money somewhere in this building?" The woman shook her head.

"She never said nothin' to me. She had her secrets…but I only knew some of them."

Sam waited, but the old woman said no more, busying herself around the kitchen. He finished his cookies and milk and started out of the kitchen.

"Mr. Sam," Carmen said behind him. "One thing. Take it easy." Sam gave a hint of a smile and nodded vaguely.

"I'll try to."

* * *

Sam exited the kitchen and looked around.

The saloon was now deserted.

The bartender was locking up, but Quinn still sat at a poker table, nursing a drink.

"Hey, boss," the bartender started. "We didn't do so good tonight."

"I'm not blind. Maybe tomorrow night will be better."

"I sure hope so," the bartender said and followed the two dealers out.

* * *

Sam paused at the foot of the stairs. It had finally gone quiet upstairs.

"It looks as though we're the last two up," Quinn said, getting up from the poker table. She sidled over to him and rested her hand on his arm.

"Sam, honey, what are we gonna do about that bitch?" Somehow, inside, he winced at the epithet.

"She's a respectable woman Quinn. I'm just poor white trash myself. I don't know how to deal with a lady."

"But you know how to handle a woman."

She pulled his face down to hers and kissed him.

For a moment, his hunger took over and he returned the kiss, enveloped in her cheap perfume.

"We could go to your room," she whispered and kissed him again.

His pulse seemed to be roaring in his ears and just like that, he needed a woman, bad. Roughly he pulled her to him.

* * *

"Well!"

Said a cold voice and they broke apart and looked up.

Mercedes Jones stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at them.

Like the snap of a twig, the moment disappeared.

Sam looked up the stairs, wiping Quinn's lipstick off his mouth. He remembered that Mercedes didn't really wear lip stick and her perfume was light and fruity, sometimes with a hint of lavender.

"I was just headed to bed," he mumbled.

"Whose?" Mercedes asked pointedly.

"None of your damn business," Quinn snapped. And then, "I'm going to bed."

She marched up the stairs and passed Mercedes, with a sneer on her face.

Sam kept looking at the curvy woman on the stairs. She had taken her hair from the tight bun again. Now it fell in soft dark curls about her shoulders. She looked innocent, vulnerable with a hunt of fragility, like a willow branch.

"What are you doing up, Miss Jones?" he asked.

"I couldn't sleep. I thought I'd come down for some warm milk."

She came down the stairs and brushed passed him, headed for the kitchen.

Without thinking, he reached out and caught her arm. It was soft and warm.

He felt a tingle run through him.

She turned towards him and looked up and he realized her eyes were the prettiest, softest brown. And her lashes were long.

"Sir, unhand me."

He just kept staring down into her face.

Her skin shone clean and delicate, and for some reason, the smattering of freckles across her nose, enticed him. '_Why did I ever think she was plain?'_

Her full lips turned into a grim, thin line and she yanked her hand out of his grasp.

"I'm not one of the girls," she reminded him and turned, nose in the air, heading for the kitchen.

* * *

Short, curvy, nevertheless, she moved with grace.

He had a sudden vision of short, thick, pretty legs, under her robe and he felt his virile body break out into sweat.

He watched her go, both surprised and unnerved.

He must need a woman worse than he thought, to feel a sudden rise of interest in the prim, Miss Jones. Yet, his mind lingered over what she must look like under that robe.

_'Damn, Sam old boy. You're more desperate than you thought.'_

He moved off to his downstairs room and got ready for bed.

* * *

After turning off his lights, Sam laid down in his bed, his thoughts all over the place. He could hear Mercedes going up the stairs.

He instantly recalled her scent and the softness of her arm and they way she looked up at him.

She was so short.

And looked so innocent.

Maybe that was the challenge.

He was used to experienced, easy women, who really knew how to give a cowboy a good ride.

Now that he looked back at all of his bed romps, he can't ever remember having a virgin, a woman that no man had touched.

"Sam Evans, are you loco?" he whispered to himself. "That frigid woman is not your type…or anyone's type. Her skin might be warm, but she's as cold as ice."

Yet, there had been a fleeting expression in those brown eyes, that his green ones noted, as if there was something vulnerable hidden there.

It occurred to him then, he could win against her.

He couldn't buy her. He couldn't bully her.

"Sam, the answer is as clear, as the nose on your face," he muttered. "What's your best talent? Loving women. They fall like timber after a few minutes in your arms…and it doesn't seem like that one has ever been in a man's arms. You have to seduce her. Make her fall in love with you and then she'll do anything you want."

He grinned to himself in the darkness of his room.

Was it a rotten, villainous plan? Of course, it was, but his living depended on claiming her half of the Lily.

He had come from a starving, hard-scrabble existence...him, his sister and his brother, in the roughest part of Tennessee. Miss Jones and her proper background couldn't possibly know, how hard life had been for him and he wasn't going to stand by and let her wreck it all.

Satisfied with his plan, he finally dropped off to sleep.

* * *

Mercedes had peeked around the kitchen door, to make sure Sam was no longer in the main room. Then, she went up the stairs and into her room.

She made sure her door was locked and bolted and got into bed.

But she couldn't sleep.

She lay staring at the dark ceiling and wondering if Quinn was in his bed.

She shook her head to discard the images that came to her mind, of his muscular body naked and his strong arms wrapped around the blonde, as he brought her to ecstasy.

She sighed and moved restlessly.

She had seen the way his muscular arms had pulled the girl to him and the way their mouths had meshed together.

She had never really been kissed…at least not like that…much less held in a passionate embrace.

That virile, stallion of a man, surely knew how to thrill a woman with his touch and conquer her, until she was writhing under him, moaning in surrender, she thought.

She broke out into a light sweat, as she pictured it and threw the sheet off.

It seemed very hot for early June, all of a sudden.

Gradually, she dropped off to sleep.

* * *

In her dreams, Sam Evans pulled her to him and kissed her…not like a fine gentleman did in those romance novels she read.

But roughly and powerfully…subduing her mouth, until her lips opened, and she clung to him, wanting everything he had to give.

'_I want you,' _he murmured against her ear. _'I need you.' _Then he lifted her in his arms and carried her to his bed.

_'And I will have you tonight, my sweet…'_

She sat up in bed, abruptly coming awake and panting.

She was still covered with a sheen of perspiration. She went furious with herself, for the silly fantasy she'd had. _Sam Evans? Was she going insane?_

* * *

**I hope these chapters are flowing well. I'm still very busy, but this story is almost completed. There are still a few chapters left to type, but all of the others up to twenty-one are finished. They just need to be edited. Until the next chapter, much love to you.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you!**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

The 'Town Beautification Committee' met next morning, in the back of one of the local bars, over a bottle of bourbon.

"First things first," Will said, pouring a round of drinks for all. "Is everybody here?"

"Not everyone. Doc's on call and Sam isn't here yet," Luke said. Almost as an answer, Sam Evans strolled in and came right to the back, with a proud look on his face.

"Relax gentlemen, I've got it all figured out," he said.

"Then, why are we here?" One guy asked. Will frowned at him.

"You've got a drink in your hand. Do you need any other reason?"

"Good point," said another. Will looked at Sam skeptically.

"Did you come up with enough to finally buy her out?"

"Will, you know that woman can't be bought…she's got principles." There were a few grumbles here and there, prompting Sam to raise his voice over them and say,

"Gentlemen, please. The answer is simple," he grinned. "I'm going to make a concentrated effort to seduce the old maid, until she gives me or sells me her half cheap and leave town."

"I don't know Sam," Will started.

"You don't think I can do it?" Sam asked. And then tossed in, "Am I, or am I not the womanizing hombre in this town?" The others looked at him with admiration.

"That's true," one shouted. And another added,

"Sam just looks at a girl, she sighs and starts dropping her undies."

"But Miss Jones is different," Will reminded them.

"Sam has the know-how," Luke pointed out and finished by saying, "Even a prim and proper lady, probably won't be able to resist him."

"What do you mean by probably?" Sam snapped.

"Well, I changed the lock on her door. That tells me she doesn't trust you…and…she's not taking any chances," Luke said.

* * *

In the silence that followed, all the men looked at Sam. He shrugged.

"I didn't say it would be easy and it sure as hell won't be fun either. But I think I can make myself do it, for the good of the Texas Lily and for the town Nacogdoches."

"I'll drink to that," Will said and the others seconded. Sam stood up.

"I'll let you know when I have scaled the wall." The men laughed and that riled Sam. He said, "Listen, you horny bastards, I'll bet you anything I can charm her out of her undies and get the Lily back the way it used to be."

All the men looked at each other and Will said,

"I'd never bet against you, Sam, but I've met the lady and you're gonna lose." They all nodded, but Sam grinned.

"My honor, as a real ladies' man is at stake here, so watch me work."

And with that, he strolled out of the bar.

But once he was outside, he wasn't quite so sure of himself.

Maybe, nobody could seduce the strait-laced schoolteacher. He didn't think it would be much fun to try, but the commerce of the town and his own rakish reputation, depended on his virility.

So, yes, he was definitely up to the challenge.

* * *

A week had passed and Mercedes was pleased with the girls' progress.

One man had dared to sneak up the back stairs, one night, and was met with her frying pan, causing him to flee, howling like a scalded hound.

She had the girls interested in their surroundings and their town. They started reading the local newspaper and discussing the latest developments in business and the social media.

She noted, business downstairs was still dropping off, but Sam Evans seemed incredibly cheerful about it. And he never missed a chance to be civil and friendly to her.

That made her very suspicious, and she began to avoid him.

* * *

Quinn was still causing trouble, but Mercedes wasn't one to give up on a difficult student.

Today, she had Carmen giving the girls cooking lessons in the kitchen. All except Quinn.

Mercedes looked on in satisfaction, at the effort the girls were putting in, looking fresh with their hair pulled back in modest buns and wearing very becoming clothing.

Quinn wore a tight top and a mini skirt, but Mercedes decided to ignore her.

"Ladies, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. You'd do good, if you know your way around the kitchen," Mercedes said. Quinn snorted.

"We know what it takes to interest a man, and it's not fluffy biscuits, right girls?" No one answered. They looked at Mercedes, with hope in their eyes.

"Believe me, there comes a time, when fluffy biscuits will be more interesting than anything else to a man, especially when you're old," Mercedes said.

"I ain't never getting old," Quinn replied and lit a cigarette.

"Put that out!" Mercedes said, in a no-nonsense schoolteacher tone.

Silence fell over the little group. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Quinn gave her a defiant grin.

"Make me." The silence grew even more strained. Abruptly, Mercedes reached out and jerked the cigarette from Quinn's mouth and tossed it in the sink.

"Why you…!" She came at Mercedes, but the other girls grabbed her. She shrieked and clawed while they held her.

"When you regain your composure," Mercedes said with cool dignity. "We'll discuss the new rules. Now, let go of her girls."

The girls did as told, and Quinn stood there, angry and confused, as she looked around.

"You dummies! You've gone over to her side, haven't you?"

"Well, yeah. She's teaching us to be ladies," Rachel said.

"Yeah! Just like her," Eva voiced. Quinn sneered.

"You ain't ever gonna be ladies. You're just a bunch of whores!"

"Enough!" Shouted Mercedes. She stared Quinn down. "Now, goodbye. I believe you've just been voted out of the Lily."

"What?" the blonde asked, backing away from the group. "You can't do this to me. I'll tell Sam."

"You need to remember something Quinn, Sam is not in charge of upstairs. I'll be fair, because I know you can't go back home and you essentially have nothing…but your looks. I'll give you some money to make a fresh start…"

"I don't need your damned money. I can still earn my own way, flat on my back. I can go to work down at the Bucket O' Blood, or somewhere else."

She marched out of the kitchen, hips swinging in defiance and head held high. Mercedes couldn't help Quinn if she didn't want her help.

She looked at her little group with satisfaction. She had won a moral victory today. The girls were now solidly aligned with her.

* * *

"Well, that's over and done with. Let's get back to our cooking lesson," she said.

"I second that! Let's bake a cake and have it for supper," Carmen said, although she looked doubtful.

Mercedes picked up on it. She gently squeezed the old lady's hand and said,

"I know these girls haven't even boiled water in their lives, but they can learn. And whatever they cook, we'll have it for dinner."

Rachel clapped her hand in glee, her dark hair bouncing, as she did a little jig. Mercedes smiled.

"Imagine how pleased your future husbands will be, when you cook for them." Carmen shot them a dour look in secret.

"If'fen they don't kill off those husbands with their first meal," she whispered to Mercedes, and laughed.

"Carmen, don't be so glum, you old softie. We're going to surprise Mr. Evans with our meal today."

"Oh, he'll be surprised alright," Carmen chuckled and went about showing the girls what to do and what not to do.

* * *

And surprised he was.

He appeared shocked, even, as they all sat down to lunch around the big table.

"What in the name of God…?" he asked Carmen. The maid rolled her eyes.

"The girls are learning to cook."

"Is that what this is?" He seemed to be dismayed, as he surveyed the burnt mess in front of him.

"Do not hurt their feelings," Mercedes admonished. "It's really delicious. See, I'm eating it. Mmm."

She choked only a little, as she smiled at the anxious young cooks. Sam looked at her, then at the six girls.

"What happened to Quinn?"

"Quinn's moving out," Mercedes replied. Rachel piped up.

"She was being a smart-aleck, and she lit a smoke, and Mercedes told her to put it out."

"Miss Jones took on Quinn?" he asked. His tone told her he didn't think it was a good idea. "Quinn's a pretty tough girl."

"She's a coward," Mercedes spat, and touched her napkin to her dainty lips. "Besides, the girls helped me."

The expression on his handsome face, told her, he thought the girls had gone over to the enemy. He began to eat, although, a bit reluctantly.

* * *

"You girls have changed. You look like a bunch of high schoolers, the way you're dressed. What happened to all your jewelry and your make-up?"

"Ladies don't dress like the way we used to," the twins said together. He gave Mercedes a startled look.

"I don't know much about ladies, but…"

"Oh, by the way girls," she interrupted him, "After dinner, I have a surprise for you." Sam was fuming.

"I believe in the last several weeks we've had all the surprises we can stand," he said. Mercedes ignored him.

"We're going on a shopping spree and a night out in one of the neighboring towns. Who knows, you might even meet a nice guy, or two." Sam played with his fork.

"What about you, Miss Mercy? What if you meet a nice guy?"

"I'm not looking for a husband, Mr. Evans."

"More's the pity," he muttered.

"What?"

"Never mind." He seemed to be gritting his teeth. He remembered his plan and grudgingly started,

"Miss Mercy, I think what you're doing is wonderful…all these improvements you've been making around here…"

"You like the flowers and porch swing I put in yesterday afternoon?" she asked, excitement in her voice.

He started to say something but sighed when he heard footsteps on the stairs.

Everyone turned to see Quinn coming from upstairs with her suitcase in hand. She marched into the dining room.

"I'm moving out," she announced in a tone that would cut ice. "This ain't what I signed up for."

"Come on Quinn," Sam said. "You can't leave…"

"Oh, yes I can. When that damned Miss perfect goes, I might come back."

"I'm not leaving. I'm half-owner here," Mercedes announced. Sam actually looked dejected, as he looked from his plate of burnt food to Quinn and back again.

"Miss Jones, I believe I can raise my offer…"

"Won't do you any good. I will not accept your dirty money, when I have set myself the task of helping these girls."

"Well, you ain't gonna help me," Quinn snapped. She whirled and went out the front door, slamming it so hard, it rattled.

There was a moment of silence and all the girls looked from Sam to Mercedes.

"Where were we? Oh, yes, our meal may not be perfect, but…" Mercedes began. Sam snapped.

"Perfect? The biscuits are like cannonballs. If General Lee had those in the war, he would've won."

"If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. As I recall, Mr. Evans, you are a better than average cook. Why don't you give the girls cooking lessons?"

Sam gave her an incredulous look.

"Are you insane? Why do you think we have Carmen?" The old woman came in just then, bristling.

"I'm getting damned tired myself, of being taken for granted, Mr. Sam. You could at least give these girls a chance. Miss Mercy has taken on a big job here."

There was a long moment of silence. Sam studied Carmen.

The thought of the diamond pin he had given Sue, came to mind. What had become of it?

Many times he'd thought to ask the cook about it, but decided against it. If she had taken it, or had it buried with Sue's body, it didn't matter. She would be welcomed to it, anyway.

He sighed and threw down his napkin.

"You've even turned my own cook against me. Mercedes, you're as stubborn and as hard-headed as your aunt."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she said.

"It wasn't meant to be one." He got up from the table and turned to Carmen.

"The Town Beautification Committee will be meeting here this afternoon, about three o'clock."

"Good," Mercedes piped up. "Our ladies will serve them cake and tea."

"Cake the girls baked?" Sam asked. He seemed to be struggling for self-control.

"That's right." Sam sighed defeatedly.

"I'm sure the boys will be very glad to hear that, Miss Mercy," he gritted and walked out of the room.

* * *

The girls looked at her, awaiting directions.

"Well, you see how pleased he was?"

"He didn't seem pleased to me," Rachel said.

"I'm sure he was. This evening, we'll feed the gentlemen the cake you made, and I'll teach you the proper way to serve a formal tea. You guys could even work in a fine hotel or a nice restaurant, if you decide to."

"I thought we were done with all of that?" Eva voiced.

"I meant as waitresses or bartenders. The Lily could be a fine hotel…"

"Over Sam's dead body," Eva said.

"Don't tempt me," Mercedes said. And then, "He's such a blowhard."

The girls giggled, but Carmen shook her head from side to side. They were all in for one helluva battle, because Sam Evans wasn't about to go down that easily.

* * *

**So, Quinn is out. And the girls, plus Carmen, have all sided with Mercedes. What will Sam do? Until next chapter, much love to you.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you for your kind support.**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

A couple hours before the the Town Beautification Committee meeting, Mercedes decided to hit the streets.

It was a nice sunny day, so once again, she decided to walk.

'_A nice brisk walk would do me good,' _she said to herself. She stopped to pet the ragged old goat, out munching lilies on the front lawn.

"Eat up, Sherwin," she laughed. "I think your meal is better than the one I just had." She strolled off and ran right into Reverend Lovejoy.

"Good day, Miss Jones. I've been a bit worried about you, living up there in the Lily."

"Thank you for your concern, Reverend Lovejoy, but I'm quite alright. Mr. Evans has behaved like a gentleman,"she said, realizing she'd defended the scoundrel.

"Besides, there's a sturdy lock on my door."

"The ladies of this town are behind you one hundred percent. But the men aren't too happy," he said.

"Just what kind of town is this? It doesn't really have a decent hotel, but it has a first-class bordello." He shook his head.

"Like most Texas towns, there's a lot of cowboys and ranchers and not enough women to go around."

"Then, we should invite some respectable women to come and live here."

"Miss Jones, these men aren't looking for respectable women…"

"Well, they should be. She drew her short stature up proudly.

"Nacogdoches will never be a truly peaceful, civilized place, as long as men can have their cake and eat it, too."

"Well said," he agreed, tipping his hat and walking on.

* * *

Just then, the lieutenant came out of a general store, with a few bags in his hands, walking a little uncertainly in his heavy boots.

"Miss Jones, a pleasure to see you again." She smiled as he bowed. He was nothing like that sleazy gambler at all, she thought.

"I'm happy to see you, too, Lieutenant."

"I had hoped to see you again, but I don't go into the Texas Lily," he said, drawing himself up proudly.

"It's nice to meet a man, who realizes what a den of evil that place is."

"It's a terrible place for a lady. I've been worried about you. That rascal, Sam Evans…"

"He's been a perfect gentleman." Again, she found herself defending the scoundrel and became annoyed with herself.

"If he does anything to offend you…"

"You'll thrash him?" she asked with a playful smile on her lips.

"Uh…" he hesitated, and then, "Well, I'd probably report him to the police."

"Oh."

For some reason, she was disappointed.

Too many romance novels, where the hero whipped the villain, for daring to even look at the lovely heroine, she thought.

_'What was I thinking?' _Fisticuffs is uncivilized and besides, she knew the tough Sam Evans would wipe the floor with the lieutenant.

* * *

"Let me give you a ride," he offered.

He walked up to the car, opened it and placed his parcels inside. Then, he turned and helped her in. His hands were too soft and too sweaty, she noted.

"I was hoping that low-class gambler would admit defeat and sell out to you. Then you could turn that awful place into a fine mansion and live there."

"You don't understand, Lieutenant. I have a little money, but I couldn't buy him out. Anyway, I certainly couldn't afford to live in such a grand manner."

"Oh."

_'Did he sound disappointed?' _

"If you found that hidden treasure, you would be a rich woman," he finished. Mercedes' eyebrows rose, but she quickly schooled her features and laughed.

"I think that's just a tale, that's grown and grown. Mr. Evans doesn't seem to think there is any treasure."

"Of course, he would say that, because, no doubt he's looking for it too."

_'Of course, he was,' _she realized suddenly. That was why he was so eager to hold on to his half and buy her out. She was more determined than ever to keep her share.

* * *

The lieutenant drove her back to the hotel, and sat looking about uncertainly.

"Is that gambler inside?"

"I imagine he is. There's a meeting of the Town Beautification Committee here this afternoon."

All of a sudden, he seemed to be in a hurry, as he came around and helped her out of the car.

"I have to go."

He took her hands in his small, damp, soft ones and she couldn't help but compare them to Sam's.

Sherwin raised his head and glared threateningly at them, bleating, lilies hanging from his mouth.

"Terrible, smelly animal," the lieutenant sniffed. "He ought to be barbecued."

"But he's a pet," Mercedes protested.

"Some pet he is. Every time I've ever gotten close to the beast, he's tried to butt me."

Mercedes tried to pull away, but the young officer held her hands and looked at her, his pale eyes earnest.

"Miss Jones, I know we don't know each other very well, but, well, you've stolen my heart."

"What?" She was taken aback. "Lieutenant, I've never done anything to encourage you…"

"Yes, I know. But, I'm still bewitched by you. I hope you would let me call on you…"

"Call on me?"

"Yes. My intentions are very honorable, of course," he hastened to add. "With the object of future matrimony."

"Oh. I…I don't know what to say." She was a bit bewildered.

"Don't say anything yet, my dear Miss Jones. Give it some thought. I've known from the first time I saw you, that we were the same kind of people…well bred and unappreciated in a sea of Texas savages…especially that hooligan, Sam Evans."

In her mind, she saw Sam Evans. His hands weren't soft and moist and he wouldn't stand here like a pantywaist, holding her hands and jabbering on and on. He'd just grab her and kiss her, holding her so tightly, she couldn't breathe.

No doubt kisses from the lieutenant would be chaste and wet.

She wasn't an expert on kissing, but she just knew Sam had to be a good kisser.

"Miss Jones?"

"Yes…I…I'll give it some thought."

"You've made me a very happy man, dear lady." He bent his head and kissed her hand, with a wet kiss, as his wispy moustache brushed along her knuckles.

She almost laughed at the sensation. His hair was thinning on the top, she noted, as he bent over her hand.

"I have been burning with passion, from the moment I saw you."

Mercedes couldn't imagine him burning with anything.

She looked up suddenly, as if something or someone, willed her to. Was that Sam Evans glowering at her, from behind the curtains? He looked like he might come out there at any moment, although she couldn't understand why he looked so annoyed.

"I'd better go in. I think Mr. Evans knows we're out here." The lieutenant blanched. He dropped her hands, ran around the car and clambered in.

"Ta ta," he said, tipping his hat.

He drove away in an unusual hurry, leaving a flabbergasted Mercedes standing there.

She stared after the disappearing vehicle for a long moment. Sherwin seemed to shake his head, bleating again. After a few minutes, she sighed and went inside.

* * *

Sam stood in the entry hall, looking as handsome as ever, and also tall and menacing, with his arms crossed over his sturdy chest.

"You let that popinjay give you a ride home?" He seemed angry.

"That's hardly any of your business. The lieutenant is a perfect gentleman."

"Then, he's got you fooled. He used to be one of our best customers."

"I don't believe you!" she snapped, brown eyes blazing. "You're jealous because he's a respectable man, from a respectable family…something you can never be."

His head snapped back, as if she'd struck him and she was suddenly ashamed of herself. He caught her wrist.

"You're right about that, Mercy. I'm just a common guy who's had to fight my way through the world…not had it handed to me on a silver platter, like the lieutenant has."

"I…I'm sorry. That was rude of me."

She tried to pull away from him. His grip was so much stronger and much more masculine than the officer's.

The way he was glaring down at her, made her freeze her actions and stare up into his intense green eyes, now a shade darker.

Electricity seemed to crackle like lightning around them.

For a split second, she thought he was going to kiss her and she held her breath.

If she wanted to be free, all she had to do was slap him, or insult him again. Yet, she only stared up at him, waiting.

Instead, he chuckled and turned her loose.

"The lieutenant is after your half, don't you see that?" She felt stung.

"Is it so unbelievable that he might actually like me?" He shrugged.

"Don't be fooled, Mercy. You can do better."

"Maybe not…at least, not among these uncivilized southerners."

She flung her head back and marched up the stairs.

* * *

Mercedes sat on her bed, trembling and trying to compose herself, remembering the power of Sam's hand on her wrist.

He had been close enough for her to smell his aftershave, and a scent so wonderfully his.

Fern stuck her head in the door.

"The men are arriving downstairs. Are we still serving cake and tea?"

"Yes, of course, Fern. It'll be a good learning experience."

She got up and started downstairs, even though she dreaded facing Sam again.

* * *

The men were standing around a poker table awkwardly.

"Gentlemen," she politely said, and all answered respectfully, like young schoolboys. She gestured to the girls, who set out a slightly burnt cake and teacups.

"Have a seat, gentlemen, and I'll pour," she said.

They did as told and fell into their chairs.

One of the men, by the name of Pug, looked at the tiny cup, as it was filled with tea.

"What the hell is this?" Sam's face turned stony.

"Hush up and drink your tea, Pug. Don't hurt the ladies' feelings."

"Ladies?" Luke grinned, but Sam gave him a hard look and he immediately shut up.

Mercedes shot him a look of gratitude and he nodded. Then, the ladies proudly served their cake around the table, while the men stared at the burnt offering askance.

* * *

After a while, Mercedes murmured instructions to her girls and shooed them out of the room.

"Are you gonna stay for the meeting, Miss Jones?" Pug asked.

"Would you like me to?" The men looked at each other, as if they didn't know what to say.

The doorbell rang and Carmen escorted the lieutenant's senior into the room. He came to stand in front of Mercedes with a bunch of roses in his hand and offered them to her.

"Thank you, Major." She buried her face in the red blossoms and sniffed their sweet scent.

"Uh…Miss Jones," Sam said, glaring at her. "This is really a men's meeting."

"Then, why isn't Reverend Lovejoy here?" she challenged. "He's an important man of the community."

"Hmm," said someone and they all looked at Sam. He sighed.

"The reverend is rather inflexible on some things…"

"Principles?" she asked archly. Carmen re-entered the room again and Mercedes handed her the flowers and said, "Please put these in some water."

Sam shot her a murderous look.

"Be reasonable, Miss Jones. We can't invite a preacher to a gambling house, where we're gonna be having a drink…that is…after we drink your nice tea and eat the cake the ladies made."

The others look dubious. Mercedes paused and Sam took that as a cue for her leaving.

"Gentlemen, let's get down to business. I think Miss Jones was just leaving us," he said, gesturing.

"No, I'm not!" She pulled out a chair and the Major rushed to aid her.

Carmen had left with the roses and returned with a big plate of sandwiches and homemade pickles. She dashed out and returned again with another big platter of ribs.

"Just in case you men need something more than cake and tea. I also have deviled eggs and potato salad," she said.

The men dived in, like they hadn't eaten in a week. Some wiping their faces on their sleeves.

"I have napkins," Mercedes offered.

"Miss Jones, we are doing just fine, thank you very much," Sam said. He shot her another annoyed look.

"Mmm," sighed one of the men, who was more than a little pudgy. "Did you barbecue this yourself, Sam?"

"Course he did. Can't nobody beat Mr. Sam when it comes to barbecuing," Carmen said,proudly.

Luke the locksmith, had his mouth full, as he turned and spoke to Mercedes.

"How's that lock working for you, Miss?"

"Just fine. Thank you."

"It ain't like nobody's trying to break her door down to get in," Sam said.

"No one would dare," she tossed at him, glaring.

"Miss Jones, don't you have some mending to do?" Sam tried again.

"I think I'll stay for the meeting, since I'm part owner of a business in this town."

The other men all looked uncertainly at her and then at Sam. He was taking deep breaths.

"Carmen, please bring me some iced tea," Mercedes said.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Are you sure you want to stay?" Sam asked, as he finished his sandwich and wiped his face on his sleeve. She winced at his manners or the lack thereof.

"I said I was, didn't I?"

Luke looked longingly towards the stairs, where the NO ADMITTANCE sign still hung.

"Where'd the girls go?" he asked.

"I sent them out on a nature walk, taking pictures and what not," Mercedes said."

"What?" all the men said in unison. Sam shrugged and said,

"Must be something, prissy ladies do in Lima."

"But them ain't ladies," Pug said and then, "They's wh…"

"Shut up Pug!" Sam thundered. "If Miss Jones says they are ladies, they are ladies."

"Anything you say, Sam." Pug looked as puzzled, as the other men.

Mercedes warmed to Sam and sent him a look of gratitude for the second time that evening. Like Sir Galahad, he could be very courtly. Sam shrugged.

"It ain't my doing. The Lily's still got good liquor and gambling."

"But no girls." White haired Doc Miller sighed.

"Well, as much as I hate to give a plug to the competition, Quinn has moved down to the Bucket O' Blood," Sam said. There was a collective gasp.

He dug into his chocolate cake and winced as he took a bite.

"Miss Jones is gonna reform the rest of them and marry them off," he finished.

"That's cruel to every man in the county," Will declared and all the men looked at her, like she'd stomped on a baby rabbit.

Carmen came in to bring Mercedes a tall glass of iced tea and carry away the plates, as the men finished, breaking some of the tension.

* * *

"Before we get started. I'll mix up some mint juleps," Sam said. He got up and went over to the bar.

"You'd better mix a big pitcher," the Major warned. "We've got a serious problem."

"In that case, I'll make enough to last until evening," Sam grinned.

"I don't know how much serious work you can get done, if everyone gets snockered," Mercedes said. Again, they all looked at her. And Sam said,

"We're southerners...Texans...and Texans think better, when they've had a few drinks to oil them."

"Remember the Alamo," Will said reverently and they all scrambled to their feet, hands over their hearts and tears in their eyes.

"Is it such a big deal?" Mercedes asked and again, they looked at her, this time in horror.

"Tsk, tsk." Sam brought over a tray of drinks to the table. "Miss Jones, people have been lynched for less than that. Even southern babies knows the significance of the Alamo. Remind me to educate you later."

He passed the drinks around and smiled at her.

"Would you like one?" he asked.

"No, thank you."

She sipped her iced tea and begun to wish she'd skipped this meeting.

Whatever was going on, she probably wasn't going to approve, anyway.

* * *

**My cousin Patrick was laid to rest yesterday. He was such a nice guy. May his soul rest in peace. Until next chapter, much love to you.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Thank you for taking the time out to read this story. To those of you who have reviewed, made this a favorite or just following along, a big thank you.**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

The meeting was in full swing at the Lily. The major was saying,

"Most of the businesses in town may close, including yours…" Sam snorted.

"Miss Jones is doing a pretty good job of shutting us down now," he said.

"I'm against making money off sin," she answered. The men all regarded her with a sigh.

"Miss Jones," Sam said. "You don't belong in this meeting, any more than the other ladies and Reverend Lovejoy." She ignored him.

"You two, stop quibbling," the major snapped. Both stopped, immediately.

"Sam and I have discussed the issues we're facing, and he's come up with an idea to get businesses noticed. Tell 'em about it, Sam," the major finished.

Mercedes began to get a feeling, that there was something crooked afoot. Of course, if Sam Evans was involved, she wouldn't be surprised.

"Well," Sam started, as he sipped his julep. "We could have a parade, with a band…"

"A parade? I like that," one of the men voiced.

"Tell 'em more, Sam," the major said.

Mercedes winced at his grammar and almost automatically corrected him, but she realized Sam was giving her a look, daring her to say something, so she didn't.

"We'll make it a grand affair. Sam will cook up some of his famous barbecue and all the ladies will bring their best dishes. It'll be a party and a dance for the whole town," the major finished.

"And we could also put on a show," Sam started, and all eyes turned to him. "Well, I'm sure you all know about a group of investors, who's been traveling through the neighboring towns, looking to buy up property and anything they could get their hands on. We could use this opportunity and entertain them, to snag their interest."

"What kind of show are you speaking about?" Mercedes asked.

"A little patience, Miss Jones. This is about a stagecoach at full gallop…" Sam was saying.

"We don't have a stage," Will said.

"I have one in the back of my barn. It's old and missing a wheel, though," a guy called Dimples said.

"Can you get it up and running by then," Sam asked. He nodded.

"I believe I could."

"Okay. So, here comes this stage galloping, with lady passengers inside screaming to be saved and the stage is being chased by war-painted savages. That's where you come in," he pointed to a man with obvious Indian ancestry.

The Indian bristled.

"My people were never into war-paint. That's an insult." Sam looked exasperated.

"Well, couldn't they? Just this once? To save our town?"

"I reckon. But they won't like it."

"Where were we? Oh, then the army…the guys staying at the old fort museum, comes riding to the rescue with bugles, sounding the charge, like General Custer…"

"Custer was annihilated," Mercedes pointed out dryly.

"Sounds thrilling," the major said. "I'll tell the guys to shoot up in the air. You think the investors will like that?"

"I think they'll be so scared, they'll wet their drawers," Sam snorted.

"I beg your pardon," Mercedes started. "It sounds dangerous. Where will you get ladies to ride in this galloping coach? They might get killed."

Sam looked at her and smiled.

"Are you volunteering?"

"No, way! No woman will consent to do that, not even to save the town."

"I wouldn't let them, anyway. No southern man would put a woman in harm's way. But we do need a lady in that coach, screaming her head off…gives it a good effect."

He looked at Dimples.

"Hey, do you remember that time you dressed up in your wife's clothes for Halloween?"

There was a long moment of silence, as all the men and Mercedes stared at Dimples.

* * *

"No!" Dimples said. "N-O. I ain't gonna be some prissy girl, riding in that coach."

"It would make it more realistic," Sam said. The other men murmured in agreement.

"You gotta to do it, Dimples. To save our town," Luke said. Dimples was defiant.

"I wanna be one of the cowboys or soldiers, who comes riding to the rescue," he said.

"We need a girl in that coach, more," Sam said and then, "When it's all over, I'll throw a party afterwards…free drinks on the house."

"Now, for that, I might do it," Dimples stated. Mercedes sighed with exasperation.

"I can't believe this. Are all of you in favor of subterfuge?" The others looked at Sam. One asked,

"Is that a dirty word?"

"She don't know any dirty words…she's a lady," another threw in.

"Don't mind Miss Jones, she used to teach Grammar along with music," Sam said.

"What I'm saying," Mercedes began, raising her voice. "Is, this is crooked and dishonest. Don't you upstanding men have anything to say to this…this sly rascal?"

There was another moment of silence, as all pondered her words.

* * *

Finally, they all turned and grinned at Sam.

"Thanks, Sam, old buddy. This is a plan that denotes a true Texan. Three cheers for Sam Evans!" Will said.

"I've had enough!" Mercedes got up and flounced away from the poker table. Behind her, the men shouted,

"Hip hip hurray! Hip hip hurray! Hip hip hurray!"

* * *

The meeting was just breaking up, as the girls entered the front door with little baskets of flowers in their hands. The men's eyes gleamed.

Mercedes rushed to meet them, escorting them passed the table. The men sighed longingly as the girls went by.

"Dang it," Pug muttered. "It's like dangling candy in front of a baby and then snatching it away." The others murmured in agreement. Sam looked at Mercedes.

"Of course, there are some sour lemons drops in the bunch. Well, let's break it up fellows. It's time for the regulars to start drifting in. We'll work on our plan and talk some more, later. Dimples, get that stage coach running. I'll be the driver and Will can ride shotgun. Get word around to all the ranches, guys."

"And I'll get the dance scheduled and the band practicing," the major promised.

* * *

Mercedes took the girls upstairs and then watched over the balcony, as the men left.

It was a crazy and unprincipled plan and only that southern rascal could have dreamed it up.

It couldn't possibly work…could it?

* * *

The investors and surprisingly a few congressmen, were due in town on Saturday morning, which gave the major a perfect opportunity to stage the parade and have a band performing on the platform at the train station.

Most of the town-folk and the outlaying ranchers, came out to see the activities and welcome the visitors.

Mercedes had dug around in her closet and found a dress she didn't remember she'd had. It wasn't exactly her type of dress, but this was a special occasion for this old town, and she decided to throw caution to the wind.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror, she was speechless, as she took in her appearance.

Who was this woman? She wondered.

The girls had given her the thumbs up and told her she looked beautiful.

Even Sam looked startled, as she came down the front steps, where he waited by his car.

She was wearing a pink wave dot printed, mini wrap-around dress, with a sexy V-neck and half flare sleeve.

* * *

Sam blinked, as he watched Mercedes come down the steps. Not only did she remind him of her aunt, she looked pretty.

Pretty? Was he going crazy? She was only appealing because he'd been without a woman for a long time, he told himself.

"Y-you look nice," he stammered and then rested his hand on her lower back, to help her into the car. "You did something different with your hair."

"Yes. The girls decided to pull my hair back in ringlets." She seemed pleased he'd noticed.

The twins came down the steps carrying suitcases, chattering like jaybirds. Sam helped them in.

"Where are you two going?" he asked.

"Didn't Miss Jones tell you? We're leaving for New Mexico. We're getting married!" He frowned at Mercedes.

"Miss Mercy doesn't tell me much of anything," he grumbled.

"Will is doing the honors of bringing the other girls, to the station," Mercedes said.

"So now we'll only have four girls." Sam said. She nodded and smiled, as he snapped his seat belt on and drove off.

"Soon, the other girls will be gone…" she trailed off. Sam seemed to be gritting his teeth.

"I hope you know what you're doing. My business is still sliding."

"Since you're such a great cook, maybe you should be offering barbecue and other foods, along with your whiskey and gambling."

"I'm not running a cafe."

"It's not a bad idea," she said.

As usual, Sherwin was out on the front lawn, next to the big bird bath, munching lilies. He raised his head and shook his curled horns at them, as the car passed.

If she could just get through today, maybe everything would be alright, Mercedes told herself. She had no faith in the shenanigans planned.

She turned towards the twins in the backseat.

"You both look lovely…very respectable. I hope you'll be very happy." They giggled with pleasure. Fern said,

"I'm gonna name my first little girl after you, Miss Jones."

"Well, thank you. I'm honored."

"And Sam, I'm gonna name my first little boy after you," Faith said.

"You might want to reconsider that, my dear," Mercedes said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam snapped.

"Nothing." She looked back at the girls again. "I'm only sorry you two are going to miss the dance tonight."

"The girls from the Lily are invited to that?" Sam asked.

"Everyone is invited," she reminded him. "And our girls are now ladies. Some rancher at the party might take a liking to one of them."

Sam snorted, but Mercedes decided she wouldn't take the bait.

* * *

They arrived in town and he helped her and the girls from the car.

The twins were going by train, and Mercedes said,

"Come along ladies, I'll help you get your tickets. Mr. Evans will bring the luggage."

Sam was about to say something, but he sighed and got the luggage, wending his way through the crowd behind her.

Ahead of him, her ass waggled enticingly, and he couldn't take his eyes off it, as he pushed through the crowd.

Will met him and smiled.

"Well, if it isn't Romeo, carrying suitcases like a hired hand." Sam glared at him.

"Watch it! The twins are leaving," he snapped.

"And someone's got to carry their stuff."

He ignored the grinning men and followed the three women, his eyes going right back to Mercedes' behind.

* * *

After the twins had left, Mercedes and Sam began to mingle with the boisterous crowd.

The mayor began to speak and Mercedes leaned over and whispered to Sam.

"Are you guys still planning that silly…"

"Hush," he commanded. "You're interrupting the mayor's speech."

"I take that as a yes?" Sam didn't answer.

* * *

The speech went on, as well as the important hand shaking and introductions.

Luke and a few of the men found Sam and Mercedes and began to talk about their plan.

They'd decided it was best staged when the important people were leaving town.

"We're gonna put on a show that makes one of those Wild West shows look like kids' play," Sam said. Mercedes frowned.

"This is deceptive and will have ruinous results. I heartily disapprove." The men looked from her to Sam.

"Does she ever speak English?" one asked.

"She's a Lima schoolteacher, you can't expect too much."

Mercedes turned away from them. She was miffed at the way they were speaking about her. She saw the lieutenant hand his tuba over to another band member and began walking towards her.

He bowed low.

"Good day, Miss Mercedes. How did you like the concert?"

"It…it was wonderful, Lieutenant." She was trying to be polite.

"Call me Buford." He smiled at her and his wispy moustache wiggled. "Are you going to the dance tonight?"

"Of course, I wouldn't miss it."

"Then I shall monopolize your entire dance time," he promised. And then, "Ta ta, I must be off." He wobbled a little as he walked away.

Sam strode up to them scowling.

"Is it my imagination, or is that prissy officer getting taller?"

"Don't be rude," she scolded. "He's going to be my dance partner tonight."

"You'll be looking down at the top of his head all night," Sam snorted. Luke walked up before she could say anything.

"Did you hear him? What kind of a man says 'ta ta'?"

"We all know he's not from around here, that's for sure," Sam said. Will joined them.

"If a Texan had said 'ta ta,' the boys would rope him and drag him through cow lot."

"He's a gentleman," Mercedes offered. "And you're all just jealous. I'll be more than happy, to save him dances tonight. I'll be waiting by the car."

She turned her nose up and marched away.

* * *

The men stared after her.

Her voluptuous behind rolled enticingly as she walked, and Sam was mesmerized by the sight. Luke sighed.

"Damn! Is it my imagination, or is she getting prettier than a speckled pup in a red wagon?"

The way the men were staring after her, like hungry hounds after a rabbit, annoyed Sam for some reason.

"Y'all quit gawking after Mercy that way. She's a lady." The others had gathered now and Will nodded in agreement.

"She's a lady alright. She's saving dances for that prissy lieutenant? Our Romeo has definitely lost his charm."

"When hell freezes over," Sam said. "I just haven't had time to turn my charm on her yet."

"She's a big challenge," one said. "Hell, yes. The contrariest woman I've ever met. She doesn't seem to notice how charming I am," Sam said, with a grin.

"Let us know when you get her drawers off," Luke grinned.

"No contest," Sam snapped and headed for the car.

* * *

His reputation was at stake, as well as his business.

Tonight, at the dance, he'd have to out-do that prissy officer.

He strode over, helped her into the car and climbed in.

"If I was you, I wouldn't promise all my dances to that prissy officer."

"I will not listen to this. He's a gentleman," she defended the officer gallantly.

"I'm sure his blood runs as red as anyone's, if he ever got cut or got into a fight."

"Fight? I'm sure Buford's not a low-class saloon brawler."

"Like me?" he asked.

"I didn't say that."

"So, it's Buford now, is it? You two are getting mighty friendly."

"That's hardly your concern. He's asked to call on me."

"If that nancy-boy comes into the Lily, I'll throw him down the steps," Sam glowered at her.

"You wouldn't," she challenged.

"Try me." She held his gaze for a few moments. Something told her he was definitely up for the challenge. She looked away.

"Besides, he's too respectable to come to our place, as long as it's a low-class saloon."

"Maybe, because, he's been told he ain't welcome, since he cheats at cards and welsh on bets."

"How dare you? The lieutenant is a high-class gentleman."

"How would you know? That high-class gentleman is after your share of the Lily." She turned and glared at him.

"And you're afraid I might marry him and he'd get it," she snapped, brown eyes blazing. "We've had this conversation before, Mr. Evans. I know you don't think it's possible, a man could ever want to marry this old-maid schoolteacher, but maybe, the lieutenant is different."

* * *

Tears came to her eyes and she blinked rapidly.

The moment Sam pulled up to the Lily, she hopped out, and made a beeline up the steps.

Sam just sat in the car looking at her. He could've sworn she was sobbing, as she jumped out of the car and he felt bad about that.

"You stupid ass, you didn't help your cause the way you behaved just now. Bed her? You'll be lucky if she doesn't throw rocks at you tonight," he said aloud to himself.

* * *

Will brought the other girls home, as he sat there.

They waved and went in.

Will hooted a friendly horn and drove off.

* * *

After a while, Sam exited the car and went to sit on the porch swing.

The Lily wouldn't be opening tonight, because of the big dance at the fort.

Dance. In his mind, he saw the snooty lieutenant dancing with Mercedes, holding her close, while he entertained her with sophisticated conversation, about his society back east.

Sam had always charmed women, but now, he felt at a distinct advantage. What did a hard-scrabble Texan immigrant know abut behaving like a gentleman?

With the picture of the two still in his mind, the pair waltzed and laughed. Then, the lieutenant whirled her out the doors of the big ballroom, and into the darkness.

Out there, he'd kiss her.

That thought upset Sam so much, he found himself clenching and un-clenching his fists.

It was only because he had a bet on with the boys, he told himself, and he fully intended to seduce the naïve girl before the lieutenant gets a chance to.

Yes, that was what was bothering him. If the lieutenant kissed her…he might get her undies off and…that picture really upset Sam.

Mercedes was a lady and how dare a nancy-boy like that try to take advantage of her?

* * *

Well, tonight, he promised himself, he'd out-charm the officer, and if anyone was going to kiss her, it was going to be him...Sam Evans

* * *

**Thank you for your kind remarks, I appreciate it. Much love to you. **


	15. Chapter 15

**Thank you, kind people.**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

The girls were all aflutter on this warm summer night, as they got ready for the dance.

"Guess what?" Michele said. "A new rancher was flirting with me at the parade. He said he'd be at the dance tonight."

"Remember to behave like a lady," Mercedes reminded her. "You can't sell the candy store, by giving away the sweets."

"What?" asked Rachel. Mercedes sighed and shook her head.

"Never mind Rach. I think Michele knows what I mean." Michele nodded.

"I do, Miss Jones and I'm very grateful to you, for all you've taught me." Mercedes smiled and patted her arm.

"I only want what's best for all of you. You've become like little sisters to me."

"You're not that old," Rachel said.

"Sometimes I feel like it, though."

She thought about marriage with a wistful sigh. Mrs. Buford Fortenbury. Should she settle for that, if he asked her? There might not be any fireworks, but she'd be part of a respectable family.

Her mind went to the night Sam had caught her arm, and how her heart had hammered at his touch.

Her common sense told her, the gambler was not only wild, but dangerous to a respectable woman, like her.

The lieutenant was a sensible match, any day.

* * *

She sighed heavily. She wasn't sure what she would wear. She was going to throw on the same one she'd worn earlier, but the girls were having none of it.

"Miss Mercy," Eva started, "You could look so much better than you do. I'll bet anything, you have some fancy outfits in the back of your closet."

Mercedes wanted to protest and say otherwise, but she hated lying.

"Maybe I do."

"Let's see what you have," Michele said.

"I don't think…" Mercedes started, but was politely cut off by Elaine saying,

"You could at least try. You have a killer body…hips and ass to die for…"

"Language, please."

"Sorry, but you do. And you need to show it off."

"I don't think…"

"Well, don't," Eva said, as she and the others began looking through the closet, attempting to find something enticing for Mercedes to wear.

Just like the girls had said, they found her the perfect dress for the party.

* * *

As Mercedes stood blinking at herself in the full-length mirror, she had to admit, she looked radiant.

"It looks good on you," Rachel said, and the others agreed. "Now, you need some jewelry, and something done to your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?" Mercedes touched it defensively. "It's very practical this way," she finished.

"Practical is out. It needs to be a little softer," Michele said, and then, "I'll get the curling iron. You others, find her some jewelry and something a little sweeter than what she usually wears."

They all scattered, with Mercedes calling after them in protest.

* * *

Carmen entered then.

"Hmm, hmm, ain't you something?" She nodded in approval. "You look right pretty, Miss Mercedes."

"You think so?" She stared at herself in the mirror. "My mother frowned on vanity."

"Well, everyone has a right to their own opinion…but in my opinion, you look smashing."

"Thank you, Carmen."

"I've got food in the oven for tonight's big dance…party, whatever." She left the room and the girls reappeared with a string of pearls and a curling iron.

* * *

"Have a seat, say bye to the bun and let us do something about your hair," Rachel said.

Mercedes protested, but she was overwhelmed by the girls, who took down her hair and redid it, with giggles of delight.

* * *

Downstairs, Sam had just finished shaving, and frowned, as he slipped into a fine black jacket, that was custom-made for him.

He slapped on a little aftershave and a dab of Polo Red by Ralph Lauren. He looked much younger than his twenty-nine years.

There were going to be some pretty girls at the dance and normally, he would help himself to the feast of beauties. But, tonight, he must concentrate on Mercedes.

Mercy, he thought with a smile.

In spite of her stern demeanor, she was really naïve and defenseless in this tough world. He suddenly felt protective of her. Then he remembered that she was ruining his business and he had a bet on with the guys…his reputation as a charmer, was on the line.

No, Lieutenant Nancy-boy was not going to monopolize her evening, if Sam had anything to say about it.

* * *

It was turning dusk outside his window.

From upstairs, he heard the girls giggling. _'What's going on up there?' _

The errand boy came in the back door and announced that the limo was out front and ready. Sam nodded and went to the foot of the stairs.

"Hey ladies," he shouted. "You ready for the party?"

The girls came down together.

Mercedes must've had a hand in their outfits, because, they wore little make-up and their dresses were demure, he thought. He made an exclamation of surprise.

"You girls look like real ladies," he said before thinking.

"We are ladies and entitled to some respect," Rachel said and then, "Wait until you see Miss Jones." They giggled, as if sharing an inside joke.

"Uh huh," Sam said without enthusiasm, not expecting much. She always looked prim and hardly ever smiled.

"We'll wait in the car," the girls said and trooped passed him, giggling again.

* * *

"Hey up there!" he yelled up the stairs. "Are you coming, Miss Jones?"

Her door opened slowly and she came out on the landing and stood there hesitantly. Sam took a surprised breath and muttered to himself.

"Well, I'll be damned!" She paused at the top of the stairs. "Do I…do I look ridiculous? The girls insisted on helping me."

He couldn't say anything. He just stared.

She looked extremely pretty. Her skin looked soft and it glowed. Her neck was adorned with pearls and her hair… She came down the stairs blushing.

"Do I look that bad?"

"You…you look pretty," he stumbled over his words. "What did you do to your hair?" She reached up and touched it with a nervous hand.

"The girls insisted on curling it and putting it in this half up, half down, do. I feel so silly. It's the first time I've actually allowed myself to get this gussied up."

Sam was spellbound and it made her uneasy.

She turned to go upstairs and change, and he grabbed her arm.

"No way. You're not changing."

He caught a whiff of the new scent she was wearing and how brown her eyes were…and that sprinkle of freckles across her nose and slightly over her cheeks, only made her more appealing.

He had a sudden urge to drag her to him and kiss her breathless, there in the darkened hallway, but he also knew, she'd probably slap him.

The lieutenant would probably kiss her tonight, out on the balcony of the ballroom. The thought made him grind his teeth.

"You look upset, Mr. Evans. You don't have to be nice to me. I know how much you dislike me."

"Then maybe I'm the one who has been a fool," he smiled gallantly and offered her his arm. "Shall we go?"

She blushed again and took his toned arm.

* * *

Sam was still speechless over her appearance. He patted the dainty hand she put on his muscular arm and smiled down at her again.

"It would be an honor to escort you, Mercy. And while I know you've promised all your dances to the officer, I will fight him and any others off and insist you save me a dance."

Mercedes flushed.

"Please don't make fun of me," she whispered. "I know you're only after the Lily."

Could he deny it? He was as confused, as a calf in a roping pen. Somehow, he could not lie to this soft paragon of virtue.

"Well, save me a dance anyway." They started out the front door and Carmen called after Sam.

"Mr. Sam, I put a coconut and a chocolate cake in the back of the limo, as well as a ham."

"Thanks, Carmen. Doesn't Miss Mercy look nice?"

"She sure does." She shooed the two of them out the door. "Y'all have a good time at the dance tonight."

She stood on the porch and waved goodbye as the car pulled away.

* * *

Carmen returned to the kitchen. She knew Sam very well. She'd seen the way he smiled at the naïve Miss Jones, just now.

He was going to try to charm her and the poor thing had probably never had a man court her before.

Sam was a ladies' man. Miss Mercedes would be like a baby chick in a wolf's mouth.

"Uh uh," she shook her head in disapproval.

She used to like Sam much more, until the diamond pin disappeared. She knew he'd given it to Miss Sue the day before she died. But when she had looked for it, to pin it on Sue's dress for the burial, she couldn't find it.

Had he done the unthinkable and taken it from her jewelry box, the day of the funeral? That would be incredibly cheap and not at all like Mr. Sam.

He'd always been kind and generous. No wonder Miss Sue had loved him better than a son.

If he'd been a little older or she'd been a little younger…well, that was water under the bridge, now.

Carmen sat in the dark kitchen, sipping her coffee and wondered about what Sam had done with the diamond pin. He'd probably given it to one of the whores, or even Miss Mercedes, trying to charm her to drop her suspicions of him. She shook her head.

"Yes, the poor little thing, is a baby chick in a wolf's mouth and Mr. Sam will get what he wants. She'll end up in his bed like all those other women."

* * *

As the limo pulled up to the fort, the girls in the back giggled with excitement.

"Look at all the cars. Half the county must be here tonight," Rachel said.

It was a warm night and the lights and music streamed from the ballroom.

Mercedes glanced at Sam. He looked handsome tonight, and he's been very polite. And the way he'd look at her, back in the hallway, had made her pulse race.

He smiled at her and started to get out of the car. But just then, the Lieutenant came out of the darkness and bowed low.

"Allow me, Miss Mercedes. My goodness, aren't you pretty tonight?" He helped her out, as Sam sat scowling.

"I was going to help her out," he flatly said. But the officer had offered Mercedes his arm and they were walking towards the entrance.

Mercedes caught herself and looked back. Sam was scowling blackly, but then, he turned and helped the other girls from the car.

"I thought you were afraid of Mr. Evans," Mercedes said to the Lieutenant.

"Who, me?" He smiled almost arrogantly. "Of course, not. Besides, I knew he wouldn't create a scene with the ladies present…at least one lady."

"Oh." Was all that she could manage, but thought differently.

Sam was gallant that way, Mercedes thought.

Her thoughts drifted again, to the way he had looked at her, as she came down the stairs.

"….and so, what do you think?"

"About what?" Mercedes paused and looked at him blankly. She realized she hadn't been listening, she'd been thinking about Sam.

"About the concert at the station. Didn't you think the way I played the tuba was outstanding?"

"Outstanding," she echoed, although, frankly, she couldn't remember the music. Buford beamed at her, as he escorted her into the room.

"You look beautiful tonight. I'm so pleased to be your date. You probably shouldn't have let that scoundrel drive you over."

"Since you didn't have a car. I didn't have much choice…"

"But, he's such a low-class rascal," Buford said, as he took her over to the table, where the buffet had been spread.

"You can't turn a sow's ear into a silk purse, now, can you?" he finished.

Of course, not."

Somehow the Lieutenant's snootiness annoyed her, but she allowed it to slide.

* * *

Sam came into the room just then, Rachel on one arm, Michele on the other. Eva and Elaine brought up the rear, carrying Carmen's cakes.

Sam frowned at Mercedes and her escort and turned his attention to the ladies.

Mercedes nodded towards the girls.

"They look nice, don't they?"

"Miss Mercedes, if I may be so bold, everyone will be scandalized that you brought them here."

"Then, let them be," she snapped, a little annoyed with the officer. "They may not have the pedigree that you and I possess, but they deserve a chance."

_'What was it Sam had said, about walking a mile in a person 's boots, before judging them?'_

* * *

She and Buford filled their plates in the buffet line.

About that time, the major gestured for them to join his table. Around it sat himself, his wife and three congressmen.

The men scrambled to their feet, as she approached.

"Sit, please, gentlemen," Mercedes hastened to say. She turned her head slightly. Sam was sitting at a table with the four girls.

They were all laughing and seemed to be having a wonderful time. Of course, the scoundrel could be charming, she admitted to herself.

* * *

The conversation at her table, was about protecting the citizens of Nacogdoches.

Buford had turned to one of the congressmen, who was looking a little nervous and said to him,

"Don't worry. I will personally protect you in case of an attack."

Mercedes smiled behind her napkin. Just how would Buford do that? While carrying his big, shiny tuba, probably."

One of the other congressmen changed the subject abruptly,by saying,

"There's a guy dear to my heart. He's escorting four beauties, all to himself."

Mercedes turned her head. It was Sam and the girls.

Buford opened his mouth to say something and Mercedes glared at him. She said,

"Would you like to meet the ladies, sir? I just happen to know them." All three congressmen grinned.

"That little brunette," said the tall one. "Really takes my eye."

"I'm guessing you're unmarried?" Mercedes asked pointedly.

"As a matter of fact, I am. But of course, the right girl could change that and become my wife." Mercedes looked at him. He was handsome and no doubt rich.

"After dinner, I'll introduce you," she said.

* * *

Presently, the band began to assemble. Mercedes looked at the lieutenant and asked,

"Aren't you playing tonight?" He shook his head.

"For dancing, there's no need for a tub."

_'Oh, shucks!' _she thought, fervently wishing there was.

* * *

At Sam's table, they looked as if they were having fun.

The music began and couples started towards the dance floor.

Sam took Michele and led her out on the floor, and her eyes stayed glued to them.

The others at her table were talking amongst themselves, except for the lieutenant, who was bitching about Sam.

"Look at that gambler. Bold as brass. Acting like he's respectable, when we all know what he is..."

"Let's introduce the congressman to Rachel." She stood up and all the men jumped up from their seats.

"I think you should meet my friend," she said to the congressman. He nodded.

"I'd be delighted."

Poor Buford could do nothing but trail in her wake, as she took the congressman's arm and led him over to where Rachel sat at a table, watching the dancers.

"Miss Rachel Berry, may I present Congressman Hudson?"

"Charmed, I'm sure." He bowed to her and asked,

"Would you care to dance, Miss Rachel?" Mercedes held her breath, hoping the girl remembered what she'd been taught. She did.

"Sir, I'd be pleased."

The congressman took her arm, grinning like a possum eating grapes and led her out to the dance floor. He was clearly smitten with her.

Mercedes watched in satisfaction, although Buford frowned.

"Well, he's certainly buying a pig in a blanket."

"Don't be such a snob," she angrily said.

"How can you say that, Miss Mercedes? You know breeding counts. And she doesn't have any, just like that low-class gambler."

Wasn't that her thinking? Then, why was she so annoyed with Buford?

"Would you care to dance?" he asked, and she nodded. He whirled her out to the dance floor, but he didn't dance very well. Not even as good as her and she was not a good dancer…mostly due to her lack of a social life.

She frowned looking over Buford's shoulder.

That Texas rascal danced smoothly, as he twirled the strawberry blonde, Michele, passed her.

A tall, handsome cowboy was now at the table asking Elaine to dance.

Mercedes felt good. It meant her plans were working.

The music ended and the couples applauded.

* * *

The night was warm, and someone had opened all the French doors, leading out onto the back balcony.

"It's warm, isn't it?" she asked, watching Sam lead Michele back to the table. Buford nodded.

"Would you like a glass of punch?" Buford asked.

"That would be nice. Thank you."

Buford left and she stood there alone, waiting.

Abruptly, the music started, and Sam crossed the floor, in long strides.

"I believe this is my dance, Miss Mercy," he crooned.

"But, I'm waiting for Lieutenant Fortenbury."

"No, you're not. You're dancing with me." And he whirled her out on the floor, holding her tightly, even as she protested.

* * *

**I know, even I can't believe, I've ended this here. But, have no fear, the next chapter is hours away and will start off, exactly where this has finished. Thank you for following along on this journey. Much love to you and yours.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Thank you so much, dear friends.**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

Sam held onto Mercedes, as tightly as he could, twirling her all around the room.

"Mr. Evans," she said, quite annoyed. "My date went to get me a cup of punch."

"I know," he said, grinning down at her. "I watched him leave, then I pounced on you." She had to look up at him and that made her feel small and vulnerable.

"Then, that was incredibly rude." He grinned and pulled her even closer.

"Did you expect any better from me?" She stifled a rude reply.

_'I will not lower myself to his level.' _

He smiled down at her and she inhaled the sweet smell of him, noting his perfect jawline and his gorgeous face.

His big hand enveloped hers and his strong arms held her even tighter, as she struggled to put a little distance between them.

"What will Lieutenant Fortenbury think? she asked.

"What do I care?" was his reply. He whirled her about the floor smoothly. "Even if he takes offense, what can he do about it?"

She glanced over to one side, where the officer was standing with two cups of punch, looking helpless and pathetic. Of course, if some guy had snatched Sam Evans' date, he'd confront the man and take her back.

She looked at the wilting Buford and sighed. He would never confront anyone…but that could also show how civilized he was.

* * *

Everyone seemed to be watching them and looking towards Buford and smiling.

She threw the officer a silent plea with her eyes.

He put the two cups of punch on the table, squared his thin shoulders, and marched across the floor, to tap Sam on his arm.

"I…I'm cutting in." His voice came out as a squeak. Sam glanced down at him.

"No, you're not, the lady is dancing with me." Then he whirled her away, leaving the shorter man to look on defeatedly.

"That was rude," Mercedes said.

"He could challenge me to a fight out back, but I don't think he wants to dance with you that badly. I do."

He shrugged his big, wide shoulders. His body felt so warm against hers, she suddenly imagined they were both naked.

_'What on earth am I thinking?' _She shook her head.

"Fighting solves nothing."

"A man who wants a woman will fight for her." His fingers seemed to tighten on her waist.

"Buford is a civilized gentleman," she defended him.

"Uh-huh. So, let him stand on the sidelines with the two cups of punch."

* * *

The Town Beautification Committee, seemed to be mesmerized on the sidelines and most of the ladies looked envious, as the couple danced passed them.

"Why are you doing this?" Mercedes demanded. "Do you take me for a fool?" He couldn't possibly be attracted to a plain thing like her. He gave her a hard stare.

"Anyone who would take you for a fool, Miss Mercy, is underestimatin' you. You're clever, smart and stubborn…just like me."

She wouldn't admit it, but his southern accent turned her on.

"I'm nothing like you. You scoundrel."

"Scoundrel?" He grinned down at her. "That I am."

They were near the opened French doors and abruptly, he twirled her out onto the balcony.

* * *

The moon was full and the June breeze pleasantly cool, although the night was warm.

A soft whisper of roses, wafted by on the wind.

The heat of Sam's body and the solidness of it, made her think about him. He was all male. He was a handsome, beautiful, threat to any woman.

There was something magnetic about him…something primal.

He stopped and continued to hold her, as if she was his.

Her heart fluttered and her thoughts began to turn carnal.

"Take me back inside, this instant," she demanded.

"Are you sure you want to do that?"

He smiled and the hand enveloping hers, felt strong and masculine. He held her so tightly, she suspected he could feel her nipples pressing into the fabric of his jacket.

"Certainly. Everyone inside will be gossiping and Lieutenant Fortenbury…"

"Will do what? You think Junior will come out here and challenge me?"

Of course, he wouldn't. No man in his right mind would challenge Sam Evans.

He was looking down at her in a way that made her so nervous, her hands began to sweat.

Why had she never noticed how full and sensual his lips are?

"Please," she whispered and then wasn't sure what she was pleading for. But he surprised her, letting go of her and bowing low.

"I'm a sucker for a lady's pleas. Allow me to escort you back inside, Miss Mercy."

* * *

He hadn't kissed her.

She didn't know whether to be relieved or upset. After all, she'd never been really kissed. A peck on the lips didn't count.

As she took his arm, she imagined him claiming her mouth as his own, kissing her deeply and thoroughly, while his tongue played along her lips, begging them to open, as his big hand reached to caress the front of her low-cut dress and then slip inside.

"You're trembling." He sounded genuinely concerned, as he led her through the French doors.

"I…I…it was cold out there." She felt like an idiot.

"Of course. It's always freezing in June."

He smiled ever so slightly.

Was he mocking her? Seemed so. And everyone seemed to be watching them. And did she see several ladies lean over to whisper to other women?

The Town Beautification Committee almost looked to be jumping up and down, grinning like a pack of idiots. But she can't imagine why.

"See what you've done? You've ruined my reputation." He led her across the floor.

"It takes a little more, than two minutes on the balcony to ruin a lady's reputation. You're so innocent, Miss Mercy."

She felt humiliated.

No man had ever desired her, so of course her reputation was as intact as her virginity. But she kept that to herself and schooled her features.

* * *

Sam led her back to her table and bowed again.

"Thank you so much, Miss Jones. It was my pleasure." He nodded to the major's wife. "You're looking lovely tonight, Mrs. Bottoms."

The older woman giggled like a schoolgirl, as Sam turned and walked away.

"Oh, Mercedes, we all saw you go outside with him. Half the women in here, would give anything to have that handsome man, ask them to dance."

Mercedes looked around. Sure enough, most of the women in the crowded room were looking at Sam and sighing, like hungry hounds after a bone.

* * *

The Lieutenant hurried to the table.

"Are you alright, Miss Mercedes?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" She was annoyed with the timid man.

"He's such a masher," Buford said, and then, "Good thing I'm a gentleman who can hold my temper, or I might have wiped up the floor with him. Of course, I dare not cause a ruckus at the major's party."

No one needed to tell Mercedes, she knew Sam would've mangled him. She managed to smile and say,

"That's very thoughtful of you, Buford."

He asked her to dance again and she nodded, watching miserably, as Sam danced with one lady after another.

If she hadn't protested so much, maybe something would've happened out there on the balcony, she thought.

That rascal was virile, masculine, handsome and dangerous, which made him twice as appealing.

She noted he danced with many ladies, but he hadn't danced anyone else out the French doors.

When they passed him on the dance floor, he winked boldly at her.

"The nerve of him. Did you see that?" she seethed.

"Very ill-mannered," Buford said. "What would you like me to do? Fight him like some rough, low-class Texan?"

_'A man will fight for the woman he wants.'_

"No, of course not, Buford. He'd wipe up the floor with you anyway," she honestly said.

"What?"

"Nothing. Let's talk about something else. No need to let that scoundrel ruin our evening."

"Alright, let's."

* * *

He began talking about his fine family, his future in Washington, D.C. when he gets transferred, his tuba and his blue-blooded background.

Mercedes stifled a yawn. Buford was incredibly boring…he only wanted to talk about himself.

She glanced towards Sam's table. He must have said something witty, because the girls were laughing and leaning closer to him. And the women at the other tables, kept looking his way.

She reminded herself, what a wonderful pedigree Lieutenant Fortenbury had, and all about his irreputable high school background. That was important…wasn't it?

* * *

Finally, the dance ended.

The girls from the Lily, stood gossiping and laughing, as Sam paused and turned, heading towards her table.

As Sam was approaching, Buford said,

"I can borrow the major's car. I'd like to take you home, Miss Mercedes…"

"Nope," Sam appeared at the table grinning. "I'll see her home."

"Isn't that up to Miss Jones?"

The two men glared at each other, then both looked at her.

Mercedes was speechless, never actually having men, practically dueling over her before. If there was a fight, Sam would turn the officer inside out, she knew it.

"Uh…Buford, I think I'll ride home with Mr. Evans. I wouldn't want to put you to any trouble."

"It wouldn't be any trouble…"

"You heard the lady, sport," Sam said and took her elbow, steering her toward the door.

"You are being incredibly rude," Mercedes snapped.

"And you are being incredibly stupid," he drawled. "He's after your share of the Lily." They were outside now, walking in the darkness towards their ride.

"As are you," she shot back.

"Okay. You're right," he grinned down at her. "But at least I'm honest about it and would pay you for it."

They were standing next to the car and the girls weren't there yet.

"Are you saying, no man would ever find me desirable enough to want me?" He was still holding onto her arm and now he pulled her to him.

"I didn't say that, Mercy."

They were standing so close, she could feel his warm breath on her face and smell his aftershave.

She stood there, looking up at that full sensual mouth, while her heart hammered in her chest.

_'He's going to kiss me,' _she thought. And she found herself holding her breath and starting up on her toes, to meet him half-way.

The moment was charged with electricity, as they stared into each other's eyes.

Just then, the sound of laughter and chatter of the girls could be heard, as they approached the car.

She pulled away from him, breathing hard. He looked a bit puzzled. "Miss Mercedes," Michele laughed. "The cowboy wants to date me exclusively. He says he wants to marry me."

"That's wonderful. I'm very happy for you."

"Congratulations," Sam said and turned to assist her and the other girls into the car. Mercedes took a deep breath.

"You don't congratulate a lady. You congratulate the man and offer best wishes to the lady." Sam scowled at her.

"You certainly know how to take the joy out of everything, don't you?"

"That congressman, Mr. Hudson, wants me to leave town with him tomorrow night," Rachel said. Sam smiled.

"Good for you, Rach. Just don't give away the milk until he buys the cow."

"Could you be any more crude?" Mercedes asked. He laughed.

"Course I could be, but I won't, in deference to the ladies." He turned to her. "Ready?"

'_Ready for what?' _The way he was looking at her, made her take a deep breath. She nodded.

"Here we go," he said. He put his big hand on the small of her back and helped her in. It felt as though his fingers were burning through her dress.

He closed the door and went around, to get in.

* * *

In the car, she felt as though he was sitting too close to her.

She felt perspiration break out on her skin.

Just before they pulled away, there was a knock at the car window. Buford stood forlornly on the outside, staring at them.

"Good night, Miss Jones," he politely said.

"Good night, Lieutenant." She favored him with a smile and a polite wave, as the window went back up and the car pulled away.

Sam snorted.

And she was immediately annoyed with him.

He had ruined her evening with Buford and made her feel emotions that she'd never felt before.

Mercedes was not used to dealing with emotions.

Listening to the heart, rather than the brain, was frowned on by her cold, distant mother. And sadly, she thought the same.

* * *

When they reached home, Sam helped them all out.

Mercedes almost ran up the steps to get inside. She didn't want to be left alone with him.

She hurried up the stairs and into her room, locked the door and leaned against it, breathing hard. She heard the girls passing her room, laughing and talking about their evening.

After a few minutes, it grew quiet and then, she heard Sam's heavier footsteps on the stairs.

She tensed and leaned against the bedpost.

No doubt, he was going to one of the girls' room, and any of them would let him in.

"Mercy?" he whispered against the door.

She jumped.

She hadn't expected this.

There was only a slab of wood between them…and the lock.

"Mercy?" he whispered again.

"W-what do you want?" she stammered.

"Do you even have to ask?"

She held her breath.

Her mind was awash with mixed emotions.

She knew very well, what that big male animal wanted. She remembered the way he had held her, out on the balcony, the heat and strength of him.

Then again at the car, when she was certain he was going to kiss her.

"Mercy?" He begged and sighed longingly.

She did not answer.

She had never even had the pleasure of a real kiss and now this man was offering…no…probably demanding something more.

* * *

Her hand trembled in mid-air, trying to decide what to do.

All she had to do, was unlock that door and let him in, to begin the most exciting adventure of her life.

_'Mercedes, you're a fool, to think he might care for you,'_ she scolded herself. You know he's trying to seduce you, out of your share of the Lily and nothing else.

Tomorrow, he'd probably laugh about it with the other men.

As she hesitated, lost in her thoughts, the decision was made for her.

She heard him walk away from her door and she sighed, both with relief and regret.

He would take his passion to one of the other girls down the hall, and no doubt they wouldn't be clumsy and amateurish like she would…they would know how to please a man.

Instead, his footsteps seemed to move down the stairs.

_'What?' _

She unlocked the door, went out into the hall and looked down. She saw him go around the main hall, towards his room.

She stood there blinking.

He had gone to his room…alone.

For a split second, she almost ran down the stairs and into his room...into his arms and into his bed. She wanted to call out,

_'Teach me. Teach me, please.' _

Was she losing her mind?

She was no strumpet to throw away her virginity on him, she told herself.

* * *

Quickly, she returned to her own room, locked the door and leaned against it, breathing hard.

In her mind, she saw the two of them naked on her bed, in a violent thrashing of passion…covered in sweat…his hot mouth on her bare skin and his manhood driving deeply into her, over and over again.

The image and her own reaction to it horrified her.

She undressed and headed for the shower, to take a much needed cold bath.

* * *

Later, as she lay in bed, she pulled the covers up, even though it was a warm night.

_'Naked and thrashing about, indeed.'_

* * *

**I don't know about you guys, but, Mercedes makes me so mad sometimes and that Buford...I can't aptly find a word to describe him...yet.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you dear friends, for your concern, for your reviews, for adding this to your list of favorite stories, for continuing on the journey and simply for giving this story a try. **

**I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own 'To Love A Texan', but I have twisted, and tweaked the story to make it seem mine :)**

* * *

Sam Evans was a very confused man at the moment.

He wasn't quite sure, why he had gone to Mercedes' door. But it had something to do with holding her in his arms, out on the balcony, at the dance.

She felt so soft, warm and so good and she looked innocent, yet spirited and stubborn like himself. She had seemed so beautiful to him tonight.

_'Maybe, I just needed a woman, that was all,' _he told himself.

While she was not the answer, he had a feeling she was just on the other side of the door, listening, and waiting.

Hell, he wasn't a man to beg…he'd never had to beg a woman before.

He was annoyed at her refusal.

He turned and looked back at the dim hall, and thought about returning upstairs.

Any one of the girls would welcome him into their beds, no doubt. They were all easier that Mercedes, but tonight, he wanted something else…something challenging and unobtainable.

As far back as he could remember, he didn't think he'd ever had a virgin.

Of course, that woman would probably talk through the whole thing and correct his grammar. So why would any sane man desire her?

And, was she really smitten with that pip-squeak, Lieutenant Fortenbury? He almost growled at the thought of that nancy-boy in bed with her.

Buford Fortenbury couldn't satisfy a woman like that. Once a man ignited the passion flowing deep in her brown eyes, he would have a wildcat on his hands…or maybe not.

But, Miss Jones was innocent, Sam could tell and he was more than certain, she needed protection against a villain like Buford.

But, protecting the virtue of that stubborn woman, wasn't Sam's problem. His problem was that, the rotten pip-squeak Fortenbury, might end up with her half of the Texas Lily.

Sam shuddered at the thought.

He undressed slowly, annoyed with Mercedes and himself…that he made a fool of himself just now, begging at her door like a hungry dog sitting up for a bone.

He wouldn't be that stupid and that weak again.

He went to bed and laid there sleepless, something he never did.

He wished now, that he had kissed her, when the urge was so strong. She might have slapped his face, but no woman has ever refused his kisses.

But who knew, what the prim old maid was liable to do?

* * *

After a sleepless night, Sam arose on Sunday morning and began to cook breakfast.

The girls wandered downstairs in their housecoats, yawning and chattering.

Of course, Mercedes came down, clad in an unflattering dress and her hair once again in a tight bun.

"Good morning, ladies," he said in a tone heartier than how he felt. The girls giggled, but Mercedes made a face and poured herself a cup of coffee.

"I'm oppose to this dangerous…whatever it is. Something is bound to go wrong," she said, referring to the planned fake attack.

"Be positive," Sam growled and handed a plate of eggs and ham to Carmen.

"Humph!" Mercedes grumbled, as she accepted the plate from Carmen.

"Mercy," he said, as if speaking to a child. "We must save this town and I don't have any better ideas. Do you?"

"We could petition Congress…"

"Yep. And how far would that get us?" He grumbled and she went quiet.

He watched her. He was sober this morning and she still looked good to him, even if she was back in her uniform of modest dress and severe hair.

_ 'Seems as though, what happened last night didn't affect her...at all. That's cold...'_ he thought.

* * *

Carmen poured more coffee and said to him,

"Mr. Sam, do your best tonight. Are you in any danger?" Sam shook his head.

"No, the cowboys and the soldiers will make a lot of noise with their guns, but they'll be shooting over everyone's heads…to make it look real to the investors and the congressmen. Some of them might get scared and they may wet their pants…"

"Ahem." Mercedes scowled at him. He bowed.

"Oh, excuse me. I forgot there was a lady present." Rachel made a face.

"And what are we? Chopped liver?"

He ignored Rachel for a few seconds and found himself staring at Mercedes. She was blushing. No doubt about it. She was a lady, much too high-classed for a Texas saloon brawler like him.

"Girls, I meant no disrespect. Now, let's get through here. Carmen, cook your best dinner for our visitors and girls, keep them amused all afternoon, while the guys and I work on the stagecoach and the costumes."

Mercedes' face flamed.

"Not in this house!"

"Oh hell!" Sam muttered. And then, "Girls, take them out for a nice long walk, over to the livery stable…there's a barn full of hay there." He grinned to himself.

_'One, two, thr…' _

"I object!" Mercedes said, and slammed her coffee cup down.

_'There it is. So predictable.' _Sam turned, with his ladle in his hand.

"Miss Mercy, I'm not asking you to personally amuse the visitors and I'm not telling the girls to do 'anything'. I'm only saying, keep them busy, entertained and informed…even if you have to play cards with them."

The girls giggled and Mercedes knew she'd been had. She sighed audibly.

"Mr. Evans, you have no conscience. You are an unmitigated scoundrel."

"Thank you!" He smiled and nodded.

"That was not a compliment," she almost screamed at him. He winked at her.

"I'm just a stupid Texan, how would I know." She allowed his remark to slide.

"Ladies, behave honorably and defend your virtue…" Sam snorted.

"That's sort of locking the barn, when the horse was stolen long ago."

"Mr. Evans," Mercedes seethed. "Could you be any more crude?" He looked at her, his trademark lopsided grin on full display and flipped a pancake.

"I don't know. Want me to try?"

"No!"

She poured herself another cup of coffee and retreated to her room, wanting so much, to smack that sexy grin off his handsome face. Why had this ruffian seemed so appealing last night? She must've been moonstruck.

* * *

Lieutenant Fortenbury cleaned his rifle and looked up at the sun.

It was mid-afternoon and he knew the visitors were over at the Texas Lily, having an early dinner.

He scowled, thinking about last night.

That damned gambler, had seemed randier than that billy goat, aiming to charm Miss Jones. He knew he's after her share of the Lily, but he, himself, intended to have it and after tonight, there would be only one owner, anyway.

He smiled at his own cleverness.

The show…the fake attack, is supposed to take place at dusk, just before the visitors leave, to show them the town could be well protected against a real attack.

There would be lots of shooting, shouting and confusion.

He examined his rifle critically.

He was not a good shot, but since he didn't intend to end up in another state, his life hardly depended on his shooting.

What he'd like to do, was to own a fine saloon and bawdy house, like the Texas Lily. Then, in two years, when his enlistment was up, he'd live an easy life, with all the liquor he could drink, plenty of income, and sleeping with all the girls upstairs.

After that, he might sell the bordello at a profit and head home.

Maybe his father would forgive him and think twice about disinheriting his youngest son, for getting that society girl pregnant and deserting her.

It would be horrible to go through life poor and that certainly wasn't in Buford Fortenbury's plans.

He frowned.

To end up with the Lily, he had to get rid of Sam Evans, so Miss Jones could inherit the gambler's half. Then Buford could charm her into marrying him…that might not be so easy.

He'd seen sparks fly between her and Evans, at the dance last night.

Buford checked his rifle again.

The troops had been given orders, to make a lot of noise with their weapons tonight, and shoot over the fake Indians' heads.

Now, if Sam Evans accidentally got shot and killed in tonight's adventures, no one would know who did it.

Buford grinned.

He might not be a great shot, but he could shoot well enough at close range, to kill that damned southerner.

* * *

**Well, well, Buford is beginning to show his true intentions. Stay tuned.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Thank you for your continued support. Your reviews are not only inspiring, but they are very insightful. And Emma, I love your description of Lieutenant Buford :) **

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

It was late Sunday afternoon, and after dinner, Mercedes insisted that the girls not leave un-escorted with the visitors.

So now, they were out on the lawn playing golf.

The visitors didn't look too happy, especially, after the fat one from Maine, leaned over to eye the ball and Sherwin couldn't resist that wide target.

When Mercedes looked out the window and saw what was about to happen, she shouted, "Look out!"

But it was too late.

Sherwin had made a mighty thud, and caught the congressman squarely in his…striped pants, leaving him sprawled on the ground.

The goat then stood over him, bleating and shaking his curled horns. It was a sight to behold.

* * *

Just then, Sam came out and invited them onto the porch for drinks.

He frowned at Sherwin, who was contentedly munching on the day lilies by the birdbath.

He left the men shortly afterwards, to get them another pitcher of mint julep.

* * *

Mercedes frowned at him, as he came in and went behind the bar.

"You're going to get them drunk."

"So. That's not a bad thing."

"This whole thing is liable to backfire on you."

"Aw, you're as nervous as a church deacon, with his hand in the collection basket."

"I'm worried. A lot of people could get hurt."

"You're worried about me? Thank you, m'lady," he grinned. She glared at him.

"You're so conceited. I'm worried about everyone involved."

"Don't be. Everyone knows what they're supposed to do. If Rachel is all packed, have Josiah bring the car around."

He returned to the front porch, where the visitors drank and watched the sun sinking lower on the horizon, as the randy old goat Sherwin, glared banefully from its position, looking at them.

* * *

"Well, gentlemen," Sam stood up. "It's been a good weekend, but I think your train will be arriving shortly. And here comes Josiah with the car."

"Is my lady ready? Asked Congressman Hudson. Rachel came out the door carrying her suitcases.

"Here I am, Finn, honey."

"Let me bring a pitcher for the road," Sam said and yelled inside the house, "Mercy, would you bring out some more julep? And if you're going with us, we're ready to leave."

Mercedes appeared momentarily, with said item, looking none too happy about it. She turned her attention to the visitors.

"It was an honor to host you, gentlemen," she said with a smile. "I do hope you'll come again, sometime and bring your friends."

Sam was staring daggers at her.

What the town didn't need, was nosy congressmen…investors, yes, but the others only came to snoop around.

"We'd love to," said the one from Maine, who seemed to have a hard time focusing, as Sam helped him into the car.

Rachel trailed along with Congressman Hudson.

He was beaming at her, like he'd just won a prize at the state fair.

"Gentlemen, it's been a pleasure. Josiah here, will drive you. I've got important things to do," Sam said.

Mercedes fretted, but let Sam's errand boy, help her into the car.

* * *

It was almost dark, as they drove towards town.

Near the station, many had gathered to see the visitors off.

In the distance, the sound of gunfire could be heard, startling everyone gathered.

Down the street came a stagecoach, with Sam driving and Pug riding shotgun.

Dimples, dressed in his wife's old pink flowered dress and bonnet, hung out the window of the coach, screaming for help in a high falsetto.

The fake Indians, half naked and in bright war paint, chased after the stagecoach, shooting and whooping.

Behind them, came the major and his cavalry, accompanied by some of the cowboys from the local ranches, all shooting and yelling.

It wasn't a bad presentation, Mercedes thought with grudging admiration. She even saw Buford riding with the cavalry, gun blazing and shouting with the rest of them.

He wasn't a very good rider, she thought, but he was doing his very best.

* * *

From his seat high on the stagecoach, Sam cracked his whip and drove at a galloping speed.

It was turning dark rapidly, but he could see the crowd on the station platform.

He glanced sideways at the fake Indians, riding next to the galloping coach.

"Give us another war-cry old buddy," Sam said to the one closest to him. And the plump Indian obliged.

* * *

Sam looked behind him and to each side. The cavalry, even Buford Fortenbury was doing an excellent job of hot pursuit, shouting and shooting.

He looked forward and saw the visitors rushing to get on the train, as he pulled his plunging stage horses up, in a cloud of dust.

He and Pug jumped down, 'shooting' at the circling Indians. Dimples jumped from the coach, lifted his skirts and ran right up on the platform, screaming,

"Help! Save me!"

Everyone was scattering in the noise and confusion, while the fake savages circled the platform.

* * *

As Mercedes watched, Sam threw up his arms, grabbed his chest and fell flat on his face. He was a pretty good actor she thought.

The train huffed and puffed, pulling out of the station. Rachel stuck her head out the window and waved at Mercedes, who nodded and waved back.

Alas, the train picked up speed and pulled out of town.

The major wiped his sweaty brow and grinned at everyone.

"Damn good job, folks, if I do say so myself." The crowd cheered but the cowboys reined in and complained.

"Those soldiers let their bullets get a little too close. If that happens again, we'll have to wipe up the streets with them."

"We didn't," said Lieutenant Fortenbury. "We were all shooting above everyone's heads just like we were told to."

* * *

Sam was still laid sprawled on his face, on the platform.

Mercedes walked over and looked down at the motionless man.

"You can get up now. It's over and the visitors are gone." He didn't move.

She was annoyed and nudged him with her foot.

"I said, you can quit acting now, they're gone." He still didn't move. The whole crowd gradually grew quiet.

"Sam? Stop this! It isn't funny," she said.

Dimples in his flowered dress, ran over and tried to lift him. Then, he turned an ashen face, framed by his big pink bonnet, to Mercedes.

"Oh my God! He's been shot." Women screamed and men crowded closer, as the major pushed his way through the crowd.

"Somebody, call an ambulance quick!"

* * *

Mercedes took a deep breath.

Sam has been shot in this fake fight, just as she had warned, that something might go wrong. She stood looking down at him, even as Quinn pushed her way through the crowd and knelt, cradling his blonde head on her lap.

Quinn began to sob and stroke his face.

"Sam, honey, speak to me."

Mercedes shook so badly, she could hardly speak, but she managed to get control of herself.

Almost robotically, she leaned over, picked up his hat and strode off the platform, to fill it with water from an old horse trough. She returned and threw it on him.

He came awake, his green eyes blinking, as he coughed and sputtered.

Old Doc Miller, pushed his way through the crowd. He was late in coming to see the show, when he saw the crowd gathered. He knelt at Sam's side and scanned his body from head to toe.

"Looks like a bullet grazed his leg."

"Is that all?" Mercedes asked with a sigh of relief.

"Yep. I believe he hit his head when he fell. We need to get him home."

"No, take him to my place," Quinn begged.

"No," Mercedes said, as she stepped forward and knelt next to him. His handsome face was pale, but he managed a grin.

"You rascal. You aren't even dying…you got shot in the foot."

"Did it ruin my new boots?" he asked.

"Only a southerner would be concerned about his new boots, instead of his flesh," she said.

She examined his bloody boot. He had huge feet, but he was a big man.

"Well, the right one now has a big hole in it."

"Hell."

* * *

He tried to sit up, but his face was as pale, as fresh milk. Mercedes shoved Quinn aside and cradled him in her arms.

"He's my partner, let's take him home." The major paced up and down on the platform, cursing.

"Don't know how this could've happened. I told everyone to shoot high." Lieutenant Fortenbury strode up to the platform, took off his hat and wiped his sweaty face.

"What a tragedy! Is he going to die?" the fool asked. Sam's eyes flicked to him.

"You wish!" he muttered.

"Hush!" Mercedes admonished. "Buford, you and some of the men help him into the car and Doc, you come too. I might need your help."

Everyone ran to help.

Will and a few guys helped Sam into the car and laid him flat. Mercedes had a smear of blood from him on her dress, but she didn't have time to faint.

"I'll drive. Doc, come with me and let's get him home." Quinn stood nearby, pouting.

"I'm sure he'd rather go with me," she said. Sam's eyes flickered open.

"Ohhh…Mercy. I think I'm dying. Everything seems to be going dark."

"It is dark," she snapped, not wanting him to know how upset she was. She spread her shawl over him. "If you hadn't come up with this foolish stunt…"

He groaned again and looked up at her.

"Are you an angel? Have I died and gone to heaven?"

"That's the worst acting I ever saw," she said, as Doc climbed into the car. "You've been watching too much television."

"Mercy, Mercy?" He grabbed her hand and kissed it. "Did…did it work?" The major leaned into the car.

"Did it work? My boy, it was brilliant!"

"Good," Sam whispered and promptly fainted away.

Now Mercedes was really worried. She leaned over him and touched his face gently.

Buford came up to the side of the car.

"Miss Mercedes, is he dying?"

"I don't think so." She shook her head to clear her thoughts. "It's only a flesh wound, but he's lost some blood and taken a serious blow to his head."

"What a tragic accident. I didn't like him, but I'm sorry it happened." Quinn, still trying her best to get them to take Sam to her's, yelled,

"Don't let her take him away. No telling what she'll do. If he dies, she gets full ownership of the Texas Lily." Mercedes whirled on her, anger mounted on her face.

"How dare you!" she seethed. She almost came out of the car and slapped her silly, but she remembered she was a lady. Besides, it was important to get Sam home right now.

* * *

Josiah turned up and took her trembling hands off the steering wheel and helped her into the back, resting Sam's head in her lap.

He strapped into the driver's seat and took off, with some of the cowboys following on horseback.

Mercedes stroked Sam's soft blonde hair and whispered to him,

"It'll be alright…just as soon as we get you home."

* * *

The riders carried Sam into the Texas Lily and laid him on his bed. They all gathered around to stare.

"I can't work with a crowd here, sorry," Doc Miller said. Mercedes turned and said, in a tone that brokered no argument,

"Everyone has to go. We'll let you know how he's doing. Someone get Carmen."

* * *

Doc began to take the bloody boot from Sam's foot, just as Carmen hurried into the room with her mouth hanging open.

"Lord have mercy! What happened?"

"Get some hot water and some clean cloth, Carmen," Mercedes ordered. "The rascal has been shot."

Carmen did as told, with as much urgency, as she could muster.

* * *

Mercedes leaned over him.

For once, he looked helpless and it scared her.

She was so used to him being in charge. He was a man, who knew what he wanted and went after it.

* * *

The doctor worked on the wound and Sam's eyes flickered open. He looked at Mercedes. He really did have gorgeous eyes, she surmised.

"Mercy," he gasped. "You ain't gonna let me die, are you?"

"Aren't," she corrected without thinking. Sam groaned.

"Even a dying man can't escape from your nagging."

"I'm not nagging," she snapped.

"Both of you, put a sock in it," Doc grumbled, ripping Sam's shirt open.

_'Dear God! What a masculine chest, with such rippling, powerful muscles...and those abs...' _she thought, as she hovered in the background.

"Can I do anything to help?" she asked, shaking herself from her thoughts.

* * *

Carmen came in with the items.

"Who shot Mr. Sam?" Mercedes took the things from her and shrugged.

"Nobody knows. With all those men firing and half of them drunk, it could've been anyone. He had a few juleps…he might've even shot himself."

"I heard that," Sam said.

"Hush," she returned.

"Humph," Carmen said. "Let me get him some whiskey and pain killers." Sam grinned as she left the room.

"Now there's a real angel of mercy," he said, clasping Mercedes' hand, leaving her to marvel at what a big, strong hand it was.

* * *

Carmen returned with the items and Mercedes lifted Sam's head and held him, so he could take the painkillers and drink the whiskey, she held to his lips.

"Angel," he whispered. "Dark-haired angel."

"Evans, you're drunk," she replied. He grinned up at her.

"Don't leave me Mercy."

"I won't."

* * *

After a while, the doctor was finished and he turned to Mercedes, as she lifted Sam's head and lay it gently on the pillow, and said,

"He'll be fine. He'll sleep now. I think you'd better take a rest."

Without thinking, Mercedes brushed Sam's hair back from his forehead. He looked so pale and defenseless, like a little boy. Her heart went out to him.

"He's lost a lot of blood. Will he be alright?" The doctor smiled.

"I think it will take more than a stray bullet, to finish of this rascal." The major entered the room, knocking softly.

"How's our guy?"

"Fine. He's a tough guy. He'll be up and about by tomorrow," Doc said.

"That's what I want to hear." He turned to Mercedes and said, "I'll investigate what went wrong. I believe some of the men were shooting wildly."

Lieutenant Fortenbury hurried in, offering her his handkerchief to wipe the blood from her hands.

"Are you sure he'll make it? Sometimes people die from small wounds…" She nodded and wiped her hands.

"The doctor says he'll make it…he's tough."

"Well, thank God for that," the Lieutenant said, not sounding relieved at all.

"Even though he's a scoundrel, the whole town would be upset if he died. Miss Mercedes, are you aware you have blood on your dress?"

She looked down at the smear on her dress.

"I…I must have gotten it while I was holding him." The Lieutenant frowned.

"Really, Miss Mercedes. I would think dirty work like that, should be left to the maid, Carmen."

"Shut up, Buford!" she snapped. "You're such a snob."

"What?" He was taken by surprise at the tone of her voice.

"I'm tired and I think I'd better go and see if the doctor needs anything before he goes. Major, can you tell the others, Mr. Evans is okay? And get them to disperse. Thank you."

With that, she turned away and headed for Sam's room.

* * *

The doctor was just coming out.

"I'll be back tomorrow, to see how he's doing. See if you can get some food into him, maybe some soup." Mercedes nodded and headed to the kitchen.

"I know, Miss. I've got some chicken soup. I'll bring it in," Carmen said, bringing a smile to Mercedes' face.

Mercedes turned and tiptoed back into Sam's room.

His foot was bandaged and propped up on a pillow. He still looked pale.

She looked down at him and his eyes flickered open. He grinned.

"Looks like you don't get sole ownership of the Texas Lily, yet."

"How dare you…after I got blood all over me, trying to help?"

"Yeah, Doc told me. Thank you." She acknowledged his gratitude with a nod, took a cloth and gently wiped his face.

"Carmen's bringing in some soup." He pouted.

"I'd rather have chili, with some peppers and a cold beer."

"That's not what you're getting. So you can forget all about that." She kept her voice firm. It was the only way to deal with him…going toe to toe with him.

"Miss Mercy, did anyone ever tell you, you're stubborn and hard to deal with?"

"So are you," she tossed back him.

* * *

Carmen came in with the soup.

"I can feed him, Miss, Lieutenant Fortenbury is still waiting out front, for you. Besides, he reminded me, that it's my duty to look after Mr. Sam, not yours. He says you shouldn't be playing nurse to the gambler…even one of the girls can do it."

Mercedes looked up to see, the curious faces of the remaining girls, of the Texas Lily, standing in the doorway.

Suddenly, she didn't want any of them feeding Sam or sponging him.

"Never mind. I'll do it."

"You gonna poison me?" Sam asked.

"Don't give me any ideas." She looked towards the door and said, "Everyone can go to bed. Carmen, can you please go and tell the lieutenant, that I can manage just fine without his advice? Wait...No. Just tell him I'll speak to him later and don't give him any details. It's not his business anyway."

"You can say that again," Carmen added, nodded and left the room, taking the girls with her. Sam winked at Mercedes, as she sat down on the edge of his bed.

"What will Fortenbury think?" he asked.

"Lieutenant Fortenbury is hardly your concern. So shut up and eat this soup before I pour it on you."

"You'd do that? Pour hot soup on a wounded defenseless man?" She smiled.

"Don't tempt me, Evans."

* * *

**Here's my stab at Lieutenant Fortenbury...He's a bare-faced, lying, rotten-to-the-core, grade A Ass****. I think I can find worse to call him, just not yet. See you...hear you...at the next chapter :)**


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you for your continued kind support.**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

Two days later, Sam was much better, although he insisted on having Mercedes feed him.

"How'd our business do last night?" he asked. Mercedes hesitated. "That bad, huh?"

"Well, with me not allowing the girls to…you know, and you being hurt…not so good. Also, the bartender has quit and gone back home to Iowa."

He tried to get out of bed.

"What do you think you're doing?" She restrained him and he looked up at her, their faces close.

"I can't lose the Lily. I've worked too hard, all my life, not to be an average bum."

"Just settle down," she commanded. "You can't do anything about it right now. You're to stay off your foot, as much as you can. We'll talk about it later."

He settled back against his pillows with a sigh and touched his unshaven face.

"I need a shave."

"Maybe I can get your things, so you can do it."

"Why don't you do it?" he asked. She snorted.

"Aren't you afraid I'll cut your throat? Then, I'd own the Lily outright."

"I trust you." He smiled his cute lopsided smile for her.

"That's very brave of you."

She went to his bathroom, to get the things and then to his dresser for a straight razor.

* * *

Who was she kidding? She couldn't shave Sam. It seemed so intimate, like something a couple would do. And they were definitely not a couple. Plus, being that close to him, always stirred up strange feelings.

"You know, I have absolutely no experience with this. I think we'd better call Carmen," she said.

"There's nothing to it."

"Maybe, but I won't risk nicking you, because of my inexperience."

"If you say so."

"I do. And I'll call Carmen. In the meantime, I need to go into town, to get some things. Want anything?"

"How about some of those good cigars?" She frowned at him.

"Cigars are bad for you."

"Lady, I've got scars all over me, from bullets and knife fights…and my insides are probably rotten already, from cheap whiskey. Get me some cigars."

"Alright," she conceded. Some things weren't worth the argument. "I'll have Carmen come shave you and clean you up."

"Damn! I was hoping you'd do that." He winked at her.

"Mister Evans, I've done just about what I intended to do for you." She kept her tone icy, too aware of how charming he was and how vulnerable he looked.

She left him and headed upstairs to get her purse.

* * *

Michele caught her in the hall, excitement all over her pretty face.

"That rancher asked me. He really asked me!"

"Oh? Well good for you. That means, he knows and doesn't care." She nodded and smiled.

"He says, I'm getting a fresh start and the past doesn't matter." Mercedes put her arm around the taller girl and hugged her.

"I'm so happy for you, Michele. We can hold the wedding right here, if you like." Michele beamed.

Then Mercedes put her head in the girls' rooms and said,

"You need to get up and start cleaning this whole place. Carmen can't do it alone. I'll be back to help."

"Clean?" Elaine asked.

"Yes, clean. We may have Michele's wedding right here, in the not too distant future and the place should look presentable."

She moved off, stopping to give Carmen instructions about shaving Sam and helping to clean him up.

If this was one of her romantic novels, the heroine would wash his naked body and then they would kiss...and…But this wasn't a romantic novel. The rascal could stay dirty for all she cared, she told herself.

After all, if he hadn't been involved in that stupid show, he wouldn't have gotten shot by some drunk cowboy.

* * *

Since it was fairly cool, she decided to walk into town.

It was becoming her favorite thing to do.

Sherwin grazed across the large lily bed, that bloomed like orange fire, as bluebirds played and sang around the big birdbath.

The billy goat raised its head and stared at her. Mercedes shook her finger at him.

"Don't you even think about it, you beast, or you might end up in a stew pot."

Instead, the goat trotted over and nibbled on the edge of her blue dress. She patted his head and said to him,

"I'm glad we've come to an understanding."

Sherwin actually bleated at her and returned to munching on his lilies, as she walked briskly towards town.

* * *

In the distance, Mercedes saw Lieutenant Fortenbury standing on the street corner, talking to Quinn. She frowned.

The pair noticed her and Quinn stuck her nose in the air and hurried off, leaving a trail of smoke, from her cigarette, while the officer walked towards her, all smiles.

"Miss Mercedes, so good to see you this morning." He took her hand and kissed it, but Mercedes pulled away.

"I saw you talking to Quinn."

"I was being polite," he said. And then, "She's only a harlot. I'd never even considered speaking to a lowly woman like that, but she stopped me, to ask if I knew how the gambler was. So, how is he?"

"Much better. He's pretty tough. I don't think this is the first time he's been shot or stabbed."

"No doubt," he said with a cold sniff.

"I have a few things to pick up…" Mercedes started.

"Then, it's my lucky day. I happen to be uptown with the major's car, picking up his new pruning shears. I'll give you a ride home."

"I don't want to trouble you." He bowed low.

"Miss Mercedes, any time spent with you, is no trouble at all, it's a pleasure." She blushed in spite of herself.

"You're very gallant, lieutenant. I'll accept. Thank you."

"Well, I can't tell you what a pleasure it is, to be in the company of a real lady. Since I've been here, I've hardly met any…just a few. Texas is…"

"I like Texas."

"You must be joking. This place is full of horses, cattle, rough cowboys and scoundrels like Sam Evans. Here, let me get the door for you."

Mercedes allowed him to open the door of the store for her.

"Sam, must be...as he says, tough as a long horn bull."

"Sam? You're calling him Sam now?" The lieutenant asked, his patrician eyebrows raised.

"I mean Mr. Evans," she backtracked.

"It's too bad about the accident, but with everyone shooting in the confusion, I suppose it couldn't be helped." She agreed with a nod.

"Someone was either drunk, careless or a rotten shot."

"Or all three," he joked, but she didn't laugh. She could still see Sam laying face down on the platform, motionless.

"I'm glad you find it funny," she stiffly said.

"I only meant…never mind. You're upset. I'll wait out front by the car, for you." She nodded and went on in, seeing Pug behind the counter.

* * *

"Good day, Miss Jones. How's the patient?" Pug asked.

"He'll live."

"The whole town is ready to lynch whoever shot him."

"I'm sure it was an accident."

"We think the world of him. He and Miss Sue helped everyone in this town, one time or another," he said, leaning on the counter.

"Oh?" Pug nodded.

"She was a kind-hearted soul. No one looked down on her."

Mercedes didn't know how to respond. Evidently, the town and her differed, over Sue Sylvester's morals.

"You think you can keep the Lily open, with Sam hurt?"

"I'll try to." She didn't feel like discussing the business ,or lack thereof, with an outsider. Luke came from the back and said,

"Afternoon, Miss. How's that lock on your door?" She scowled at him.

"Why is everyone so interested in the lock on my door?" Luke coughed and disappeared in the back.

"You guys can come visit him in a day, or two. He still needs rest, even though he says he doesn't."

There was a loud murmur coming from the back and all of a sudden, Pug looked uneasy.

"Don't mind them, Ma'am, they're just gaffing."

"I need some white tablecloths?"

"Ma'am?"

"I've decided, that now Mr. Evans is down, I would fix the place up…and make it look a little classier."

"Uh…" Pug wiped his hand on his white apron." "Sam know about this?" She froze him in a cold brown stare.

"Mr. Evans will not be able to conduct business for a couple days, so I'm in charge. Are you questioning that?"

"No, Ma'am. Sam says anyone tangling with a stubborn lady like you, has to be loco."

"Indeed! I am stubborn. Now, here's a list of what I'll need. We may be having a wedding at the Lily, soon and I want the place to look better than a saloon."

"A wedding? Who walked into that trap?" Mercedes wanted to smack him, but decided it wouldn't be ladylike to do so.

"Just get me the tablecloths, Mr. Pugsley. I don't need editorial input."

"What?" Far in the back, she heard the laughter of the Town Beautification Committee.

"I'll be back for these items, or let me know when they're ready."

"You bring your car, Miss?"

"No, but Lieutenant Fortenbury has offered me a ride." Pug scowled. "What's the matter, Mr. Pugsley?"

"Nothin' Ma'am. But, if I was a lady and had a choice between that prissy officer and Sam, I'd…"

"Please, Mr. Pugsley, that is my choice to make." She started off, calling back over her shoulder, "Good-bye boys."

* * *

Outside, the Lieutenant tottered to meet her, in his seemingly ill-fitting boots.

"Miss Mercedes," he said, looking earnestly at her. "It may be too soon…and I know you have many admirers…"

_'Not one,' _she thought, but smiled at the short man.

"You're being too kind, Lieutenant." He offered her his small, sweaty hand and helped her into the car.

"What I meant to say was…" He paused and fumble with the keys.

"I…I'd like to call on you. Normally, of course, I'd ask your father's permission…"

"I'm an orphan," she said.

"Oh? Brothers…sisters?" She sighed.

"I'm afraid, I'm all alone in this world."

"Oh, I'm sorry. My heart goes out to you, a defenseless female in a cruel world."

"I'm quite capable of looking after myself, thank you."

She hated his presumption that she was helpless.

She wasn't sure, she wanted Lieutenant Fortenbury to 'call' on her. That was almost the same, as saying yes to an engagement.

Could she see herself married to him? He did have sterling credentials and was from a fine family…utterly rich and respectable.

Those qualities were what she had always wanted in a husband, weren't they?

Yet her mind wandered, and she smelled the aftershave and saw the mischievous, crooked grin of a certain southern scoundrel. He was so utterly, not respectable and very low-class.

Her mother warned her, to stay away from men like Sam Evans.

"Miss Mercedes?" Buford was staring at her.

"Yes?" She came back to the conversation with a start.

"I asked, if I could call on you…date you…"

She made her decision then, because this was the kind of man, she'd always said she wanted and she wasn't getting any younger.

Besides, she didn't like the way that Evans kept looking at her…like she was a cold mint julep or a juicy steak. If he tried to kiss her, she wasn't sure she'd be able to resist the temptation, of finding out what it was like to be in his arms.

"Yes, Lieutenant, I'll think about it." He broke into a grin and she realized how weak his chin and jawline was.

"I'm so relieved. I was afraid you might be falling under the spell of that rogue."

"Who? Sam?"

"You called him Sam again." He looked at her accusingly.

"I meant, that rascal of a gambler," she stuttered. "I'm on to his tricks. I know a respectable, high-class fellow when I see one and that's you, Lieutenant." He smiled.

"I wish you would call me Buford."

"Alright, Buford."

* * *

She hated the name.

It sounded like a sissy's…and the lieutenant…okay, so maybe, he wasn't as virile and tall and as handsome as the gambler, but he had class.

Mercedes imagined herself in Philadelphia, in his fine house, meeting his, oh so respectable parents.

Yes, this was what she had always dreamed of...what her mother had dreamed of for her. And she owed something to her mother's memory.

If she married Buford, she wasn't sure what she would do about the Lily, maybe sell her half to Sam.

_'If you do, he wins,' _she thought.

Like the gambler, she was competitive…which was probably frowned on in Philadelphia. Besides, she had begun to like Texas. The people were fiery and independent.

She wanted to change the subject and she did.

"I don't know what's getting into Mr. Pugsley. He wasn't very friendly." The lieutenant shrugged his narrow shoulders.

"He's a Texan and he's hardly our class," he chuffed. It sounded so snooty, but she agreed hesitantly.

"No…I…I suppose not."

"Especially that gambler…what a scoundrel!"

"He is a scoundrel," she admitted. "But a charming one. I think, half the women in town would swoon, if he simply winked at them." He huffed.

"No taste. I do worry about your reputation, Miss Mercedes, living under the same roof…" She turned horrified eyes on him.

"You think anyone would dare impugn my reputation?"

"Not as long as I'm around," he said with a nod. "I'd wipe the street with them."

Mercedes imagined this short dandy, going up against one the rough and tough Texans in the area, and sighed. Single hand combat, or fisticuffs probably wasn't his strong point.

* * *

They drove up the driveway and he stopped the car and got out. He yelled for Sam's errand boy.

"You," he snapped. "Take these parcels inside for the lady and be quick about it."

"There's no need to be rude, Buford," Mercedes admonished.

"You've got to be firm with these types," he said, as he helped her out of the car. "Otherwise, they'll just take over and do what they want, anytime they want."

"I hardly think so."

Suddenly, she didn't like him very much. She started up the steps, without even saying goodbye. He called after her.

"Miss Mercedes, why don't I pick you up, about seven tonight and we'll go for a moonlight drive. Right now, I've got to get back to the major."

"Okay." She waved to him and watched him drive away. Sherwin paused in his grazing and glared after the retreating vehicle, as if he'd like to butt the uppity officer.

* * *

Mercedes went inside and called for Carmen.

The maid stuck her head out of the kitchen.

"Mr. Sam is asking for you."

Mercedes nodded and went to Sam's room.

He was sitting in a rocking chair, wearing fresh clothes and cleanly shaven.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"How do you think I'm feeling? My foot hurts and I've been told to stay in my room and rest."

"You're lucky to be alive," she reminded him primly. "Remember, I told you that show and fake attack was dangerous. You could've been shot through the head."

"Don't nag. What kept you so long?"

"If it's any of your business, which it isn't, I went to pick up supplies and ran into Lieutenant Fortenbury."

"That pantywaist?" He made a face. He could be so cute, she thought. She schooled her features, drew herself up proudly and replied,

"He was kind enough to give me a ride home."

"We own cars…you and me both," he reminded her.

"It was a nice afternoon. I walked."

"And I'm stuck inside. Can't deal cards, or drink, or do anything fun."

"Are you feeling sorry for yourself?"

"Heck yeah," he admitted. "Help me out on the porch. At least I can sit on the big swing and watch the town."

She hesitated, not wanting to get too close, to the fine specimen of a man, he is.

"Well?"

She didn't want to explain, that being close to him, made her as nervous as a cat up a tree.

But she helped him to his feet and let him put his arm around her shoulder.

"Take small steps," she advised.

"Honestly, must you give advice on everything?"

His face was so close to hers, she could feel the warmth of his breath.

She had to slip her arm around his trim waist, to steady him and slowly, they walked out to the porch swing. She deposited him there and backed away.

* * *

Sam patted the seat beside him.

"Sit down for a moment. I don't bite."

"Mr. Evans," she started, standing stiffly. "Being nice to me, won't get you my half of the Texas Lily."

"You're suspicious by nature, aren't you?" He grinned at her, not taking any offense.

_'His teeth are so white and straight, in that handsome, perfect face…' _

"As bad as business is right now, maybe I should sell you my half." She sat next to him and carefully scooted, as far away, as she could get from him.

"Even if I had all of the money, which I don't. you have to understand, I couldn't step into the shoes of a Madam. The thought appalls me."

"Your aunt must have known you'd feel that way, and I believe, that's why she suggested to Will Shuester, that I offer to buy you out." Mercedes shuddered.

"No wonder she was never mentioned much at home. I knew she had disgraced the family, I just didn't know the half of it."

"Don't be so hard on Sue," he said softly. "I think she's had bad luck and a tough life. Some heel messed up her life, when she was quite young and innocent, she'd said."

Mercedes looked at him.

"How do you know so much about my aunt?" He half-grinned.

"Under different circumstances, she might've been an elegant lady like yourself. Just bad luck."

"I find it hard to excuse sinking this low."

"That's because, you've never been in her circumstances."

"I don't know that much about her, except that, she came from a fine family and disgraced them, probably to marry some low-class brawler." He grinned at her.

"Like me?"

"Probably."

"You are so naïve and innocent, my dear Miss Jones. I'll bet you've never even been kissed."

He was spot on.

She felt a hot flush raced to her face, at the truth of his words.

* * *

"That's hardly your business, Mr. Evans. Respectable young women, do not allow men to take certain liberties, until they are married."

"My dear Miss Jones, you're not getting any younger. Perhaps it's time you found out what you are missing." She jumped up out of the swing.

"I'll have you know, I have a suitor and a very respectable one at that. Of course, that's something you wouldn't know about."

Sam allowed her cheeky comment to slide.

"Lieutenant Fortenbury?" He frowned.

"Yes."

"He's only after your half of the Lily."

"Funny, he says the same about you."

"But at least I'm honest about it." She felt like slapping him.

"Isn't it possible, that he might really be interested in me?"

"Miss Jones, at the risk of being called a liar, I know a great deal more about that cad, than you do. And believe me, he is not a suitable beau for…"

"Stop right there! I will not hear another word of this." She couldn't keep her voice from rising.

"I knew you wouldn't believe me."

"Not on a stack of Bibles. When you want to come in, yell for Carmen. I've done enough good deeds, for low-class rascals today."

She went inside and slammed the door.

* * *

Watching her, Sam sighed.

She was so pretty when she was angry...and so sexy.

He'd handled this badly.

He had no doubt, that the prissy officer was after her share, of the Texas Lily…which he'd get over Sam's dead body.

Of course, if she married the pantywaist, Sam would have to do business with the arrogant idiot. That would indeed be a problem.

The only way to deal with this, was to charm Mercedes Jones himself.

She seemed too smart, to fall for that fool, Lieutenant Fortenbury.

She seemed smarter than most people he'd met. Actually, besides Sue, he's never met a woman that smart, and that made her a real challenge.

Sam grinned.

He liked challenges.

* * *

**There Mercedes goes again, making me so mad at her and that lieutenant, he seems to have an axe to grind with Sam. Until next chapter, much love to you.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Thank you for your continued support. A special thank you to Samcedes. I'm happy you like the story.**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

A few days later, Mercedes was at the train station early in the morning.

As the train pulled in, she noticed two well-dressed gentlemen, step onto the platform. One of them smiled and approached her.

"Excuse me, Miss, we're from New York and in town on business. Can you direct us to a hotel?"

She hesitated for a bit.

Now that four girls had gone, there were plenty of empty rooms, upstairs at the Lily. Carmen was a great cook and they needed the money.

"Well, I believe you can stay at the Texas Lily. That's my car over there. You can take your luggage to it. I'm just going to pick up a few things at the store."

They nodded, all smiles and did as told.

* * *

Mercedes went into Pug's store.

"Mr. Pugsley, can I have those tablecloths I asked about?" He nodded and got out a package from under the counter.

"Who are those men standing by your car, Miss?"

"New York businessmen. They need a place to stay and the Lily now has plenty of extra rooms." Pug frowned.

"You turning the Lily into a hotel, while Sam is down? He ain't gonna like that."

"We need the money and it seems like a sensible solution to me," she said.

"But Sam won't like that."

"You just leave Mr. Evans to me. I can handle him," she said, with more assurance than she felt.

"We'll see," Pug said.

He wiped his hands on his apron and picked up the package. He opened the door for her and the two went outside.

* * *

On the sidewalk, Luke stood talking to Will Shuester. Both men gave a friendly wave.

"Morning Miss Jones," Luke grinned. "How's that new lock working for you. You want me to take it off."

"Of course not!" she snapped. "Does this town have nothing to preoccupy itself with, except the lock on my door?"

"Don't pay him any mind, Miss Jones, there ain't much in a small town like this, to amuse folks," Will said.

"I suppose not," she conceded.

* * *

She walked to her car, followed by Pug with her parcel.

The two gentlemen from New York stood there. One asked,

"Miss, would you like me to drive?"

"Get in," she ground out. "I'm perfectly capable of driving a car. Besides, you don't even know where the hotel is."

The two sheepishly got into the back seat, as Pug helped her into the front.

"Let me know what Sam says," he said.

"I imagine, you'll hear him yelling all the way down the hill," she said and took off.

* * *

"This seems to be a very prosperous town. No wonder there's a shortage of places to stay," one of the men said.

_'Should I tell him, the Lily used to be a whorehouse?'_

"That's the Lily up ahead, gentlemen."

"What a beautiful place," one said.

"I suppose for such accommodations, the price will be higher than most," the other threw in. Mercedes hadn't the least idea what to charge.

"Of course, but I can tell you're both gentlemen of quality, so anything around ninety dollars a day, including meals, shouldn't be too much."

"Well, for such a lovely place, that's probably about right. I presume the meals are good?"

"Gentlemen, this is Texas. How much steak can you eat?"

"No idea," one said, and all laughed.

* * *

Sherwin raised his head and shook his horns at them, as they pulled up close to the bird bath.

"Is that goat wandering free?" one asked.

"Yes, and he's not very good-tempered. He keeps everyone out of the lily bed," Mercedes warned. Sam's errand boy, Josiah came around to meet her.

"Josiah," she started, smiling. "These gentlemen will be boarding with us for a few days. Get my packages and their luggage, please."

He helped her out of the car and timidly asked,

"Miss, does Sam know about this?"

"He's about to," Mercedes said with determination. And then,

"Come on, gentlemen, I imagine our piano player…I mean, our check in clerk, Len, will be happy to fix you a mint julep."

* * *

Carmen met them at the door, looking baffled. Before she could say anything, Mercedes said,

"Here are our new guests. You should tell Len to fix them a drink. And please tell them what time you'll be serving dinner, will you?"

"What is Mr. Sam gonna say?" Carmen asked and shook her head. Mercedes smiled.

"I don't know, but I'm about to find out."

* * *

She turned to the two New Yorkers, who were looking about and nodding with satisfaction, at the piano, the bar and the red velvet drapes.

"Gentlemen, Carmen will show you to your rooms."

"This looks just like a…" one of the men started.

"But it's not," Mercedes assured him. "The girls on the premises are waitresses." The men were staring at the poker tables. She picked up on it.

"Uh…sometimes in the evenings, the local ladies' clubs host a domino, or whist party, complete with tea and sugar cookies."

The men's faces fell.

Carmen was already leading them up the stairs.

"Dinner's at six, and lunch is at noon," she said, as she trudged up the stairs in front of them.

* * *

Mercedes stood in the hall, gathering courage to face Sam.

At the moment, she didn't feel nearly as brave as she had, a few minutes ago.

Carmen looked down the stairs and shook her head at her.

Just then, Mercedes heard Sam's crutch, as he hobbled out of his room.

She hurried to intercept him before he saw the new boarders. They met in his doorway.

"Well, this is a nice surprise." He grinned. He looked pale and a little thin, but still devastatingly handsome.

She was almost rude to him. She was about to tell him, don't waste his time flirting with her, but she remembered, she had to be charming. She smiled back at him.

"You really shouldn't be up, you know." He looked surprised.

"I'll be damned. You're friendlier than usual."

"You probably will be...damned, I mean," she tossed playfully at him, as she took his arm, led him into his room and closed the door.

She leaned against the door and folded her arms across her chest. Sam grinned and paused for a beat.

"If I'd known you wanted to have your way with me…"

"Can it!"

"O...kay. What's on your mind?"

"We need to talk."

She motioned to a chair.

She didn't want him to faint in surprise, or whack her with his crutch.

She helped him to the chair and took the crutch, leaning it against the wall. She leaned over him and smiled.

"You know, you're really not bad-looking when you smile," he said.

"Thanks a bunch. You really know how to make a lady's day." He shook his head in bewilderment.

"You're the one who keeps calling for honesty." He was right.

"Uh…Sam…"

"Sam? You really are getting familiar." He grinned and winked at her and she stifled the urge to smack him.

"Mr. Evans," she said in a voice that could cut ice. "You know that there's no money coming in, with you laid up…and the girls…"

"I can't help it about the poker, but you're the one who's keeping the girls from working."

"Well, a couple of them might make pretty good waitresses…and that's respectable."

"What are you on about?" She paced up and down.

"We've got all these empty rooms…and Carmen is a good cook…"

"Not as good as me…but then, I can't barbecue much leaning on a crutch," he said.

"Humility is not your strong point."

"Who? Me?"

"Never mind. It occured to me, that this town could use another _proper_ hotel. And it could prosper more, if visiting businessmen, had a nice place to stay and eat, besides some of the other places and that greasy café, over by the Bucket O' Blood Saloon."

He shrugged.

"Maybe so."

"You know it's true." She paused and took a deep breath. "Uh…what would you say to ninety dollars a day."

"For what? Our girls generally get…"

"Not for that." She hurried to cut him off. "We could rent out rooms and take in boarders for a while."

There, she said it.

There was a split-second pause before her words sunk in. He blinked.

"What?"

"The Lily could be a great hotel and make a ton of money that way and…"

"No!" he roared. "N-O. This is the best whorehouse and gambling joint in east Texas, and you want to turn it into some prissy hotel."

"Think about it," she said. "I've already got two customers…businessmen from New York."

"Yanks? Yanks are living in my house?" His voice rose. But she would not be intimidated.

"You have been doing business with New Yorkers all this time. It's the perfect answer."

He let that sit for a minute, as the wheels in his head turned. An idea crossed his mind and he asked,

"Do these gentlemen play poker?"

"None of that," she said and then, "I told them, the only entertainment was dominoes or whist, now and then."

"Lady, you sure know how to take the fun out of life."

"Stop whining. I'm just trying to keep things going."

"Do I need to remind you, that the Texas Lily was a very profitable business only weeks ago, then you arrived and started turning everything…including my life, upside down?"

"Someday, you'll thank me for taking you out of this disreputable life of sin."

"I doubt that very much." He tried to get up.

"That just shows what a wastrel you are. Now take a nap or play solitaire. You don't have anything else to do."

"Ain't that the truth."

She closed the door and left, her mind busy with her project and smiling at how easy things went with Sam.

* * *

Mercedes spoke to the girls and asked them to wax the wood floors and dust everything.

After that, she went out into the big room and for the first time, she noticed some big, pretty brass vases, Josiah had gathered to clean.

"Josiah, give them an extra polish and then go pick me some lilies."

"Okay. Is Sherwin in his pen?" the boy asked, looking a bit uncertain.

"I'm not sure. If he isn't, I'll get Carmen to lock him up."

* * *

She called Michele to help her with the tablecloths.

It was nearing dinner time, and Carmen's eyes grew into saucers, as she came out of the kitchen, to ring the bell.

"I don't know what Mr. Sam's gonna say about this."

"He'll love it." Mercedes assured her, but she wasn't sure. She'd have to be extra charming to the rascal, until he got over this surprise.

* * *

She went down the hall and knocked on his door.

"Come in," his voice sounded. He was sitting in a chair.

"Where's your crutch?"

"I don't do so well, with those type of things…why don't you give me a hand?"

It seemed churlish to refuse.

As he hobbled to his feet, she hurried to get his arm over her shoulder.

Once again, his face was so close, she could see his prominent jawline. as he smiled and smell his aftershave.

For a moment, they stood there looking into each other's eyes. His were a warm, beautiful green, with crinkles at the corners.

His arm around her shoulder was warm, strong and heavy. Something about him, made her take a deep breath and pull away.

"I…I think you'd better use your crutch," she stammered. She reached to get it for him.

Taking a deep breath, she walked out the door ahead of him.

"I've made a few changes. I hope you like them."

"Everything was just fine the way it was. Women always want to change things and people...especially men," he grumbled, as he hobbled down the hall behind her.

* * *

They reached the main room and he paused, wordless in surprise.

There were white tablecloths on every poker table. The floor had been waxed. The billiard table was gone, and Len had his hair neatly combed and wore a jacket.

He blinked in shock.

A shiny brass spittoon was in the centre of each table, full of orange day lilies.

"What do you think?" she asked. "I found the vases and decided to use them. I've really made everything pretty, don't you think?"

Sam almost cried.

If she were a man, for just a second, he'd punch her, and he'd enjoy doing it. What could he do?

"Mercy," he said, shaking his head in defeat. "It don't look like a whorehouse no more."

"Good," she said smiling. "Come and have dinner with our guests from New York."

He counted to ten in his head and then backwards, to calm his nerves, and then pasted a smile on his handsome face, and sat for dinner.

* * *

**Poor Sam, Mercedes is going to drive him batty.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Thank you for you continued kind support. Slightly longer chapter.**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

As June deepened, Sam had graduated from the crutch and finally quit complaining about, Mercedes renting out rooms to travelers.

Whenever men came to stay, he would find himself engaging them in a game of cards…when she wasn't paying attention, of course and he often made quite a profit doing it.

* * *

Mercedes was really busy with Michele's wedding.

Sam scowled at the thought. What was it, that was so fascinating about getting hitched, that it consumed all the women in town, even a prim old maid like Miss Jones?

Maybe, it was because, she'd never have one, he thought, but of course, he didn't say so. He liked living.

So far, his attempts to charm her, were getting him nowhere, which was not only unusual, it had all the members of the Town Beautification Committee laughing at him.

Worse yet, he knew that snooty lieutenant often took her driving.

What did she see in that dandy?

* * *

"Hi," Mercedes said to him, as she came into his office/lounge, with a pencil and papers in hand. "I've told Michele to invite the whole town…"

"The whole town?" Sam grumbled. "You know that will cost us, don't you? Why don't they elope and get Reverend Lovejoy to hitch them?"

She scowled at him.

He was charming alright, and downright handsome, with sinful, succulent lips, but she wasn't stupid enough to fall at his feet.

He could charm a dog off a meat wagon.

"A girl only gets married once, so it ought to be memorable and nice." Sam snorted.

"This may be the only fancy wedding in Texas history, where half the men in the audience, have slept with the bride." Mercedes felt the blood rush to her face.

"Don't be crude, Sam Evans. Everyone deserves a second chance, including the bride. Anyway, I thought we'd have the wedding out on the front lawn, among the lilies…"

"The big bird bath is in the way." She shrugged.

"So, the morning of the wedding, we'll move it and lock Sherwin up." He sighed.

"You inviting the ranchers to come?"

"Yes, I expect them to behave."

"With a little liquor in them, they'll get bawdy and start yelling at each other or singing, and we'll have a brawl on our hands." He grinned at the thought.

"Maybe it will be fun after all…nothing like a good drunken brawl, to top off the afternoon."

"There will be no fights and no liquor," she declared, and then, "We are serving lemonade and soda, maybe a little sparkling cider and wedding cake."

An incredulous look blossomed on Sam's face.

"That's all?"

"I think it's enough."

"You'll draw a better crowd with beer and barbecue," he suggested.

"This is a wedding, not a brawl." Sam grinned.

"Men would enjoy a brawl better, especially the Texans."

"As I said, cake, lemonade, soda and sparkling cider. The rancher is marrying Michele and they'll live happily ever after."

"Doesn't he get to say anything about the arrangements?"

"He gets to say, 'I do' when the minister asks him. The ladies have planned the rest of it."

"If he ain't full of beer, he might not say 'I do'…"

"Mr. Evans, how many weddings have you attended?" He thought about it for a minute, leaning on his desk.

"So far, I've managed to avoid them all. I was afraid they were contagious."

"I rest my case. It will be, as I say, and all the men will be expected to behave like gentlemen, including the Texans."

* * *

It would have been a beautiful wedding, but just before Mercedes sent Josiah and Len out to move the birdbath, it began to rain.

Mercedes moved right into recovery mode.

"We'll just have to move the whole thing inside. Mr. Evans, you can bring the bride down the stairs and we'll all scoot the poker tables back and have the ceremony in the main room. We can set up the cake and punch in the dining room. Carmen, let's get busy."

* * *

Sam managed to open the bar for the men, while they were waiting, as more guests arrive and either stood, or took seats on each side.

Mercedes suspected what was going on downstairs, but she couldn't be in two places at the same time. She had to help Michele get dressed and then get herself ready, seeing as she was asked to be maid of honor.

* * *

After digging through her closet and finding something to wear, one of the other girls did her hair, so that, it was pulled back in soft curls, with a few ringlets about her face.

"Gosh, Miss Jones, Eva said. "You look ravishing in red." Mercedes blushed and smiled. "Is Sam ready?" she finished.

"He should be. I hope he's not too well oiled. If he stumbles down the stairs and ruins this wedding, I may beat him to death, with the silver cake server. Is Michele ready?"

The girls giggled and went in search of her.

* * *

Michele was a vision in white.

Her hair framed her face beautifully, but she had a worried look on it.

"Miss Jones, do think anyone will laugh? I mean, about me wearing white?"

"If they do, they'll answer to me," was her reply.

Sam stood in the doorway, all dressed up and smiling. He might have been a little drunk, too, but he looked so handsome and so sexy, Mercedes almost forgave him for that.

She felt him staring at her.

"What's the matter, do I look that ridiculous in this get up?" she asked.

The 'get up' she was referring to, was a red, one shoulder neckline, frill side-split dress, with red and gold strappy heels.

"Miss Mercy," he started, bowing low. "You look like a fine juicy steak, to a starving cowboy."

"What?"

"You're pretty," he announced soberly, ignoring her question. "I've never realized just how pretty you are."

Mercedes almost smiled at him, but she remembered he was smooth with women.

_'He could talk a cow out of her calf.' _

"Thank you. You look nice yourself…drunk, but nice."

"A southerner is never drunk," he corrected her, rocking slightly. "I just had a quick drink for courage."

He leaned against the doorway and grinned at her.

Her breath caught and she cursed her traitorous body.

* * *

Just then, the preacher came through the door, interrupting their little moment.

"There's a nice crowd downstairs, Miss Jones. And someone has set up a barrel of beer. A lot of the crowd is snockered." She glared at Sam.

"Now, I wonder who did that?" Sam shrugged.

"You wanted it to be a success, didn't you? You think Texans would settle for lemonade?"

Her face turned stony, but Sam remained, as cool as a cucumber.

The reverend could sense the tension between the two, as he anxiously glanced down the stairs.

"We'd better get with it, before it reaches to a point of no return." He started for the stairs, then paused.

"Miss Jones, come down after the music starts. I'll signal you. And Sam, once Miss Jones is almost to the front, you escort Michele down the stairs, okay?"

"Got it," Sam declared.

He looked like the only way for him to make it down the stairs, was to fall down, Mercedes thought.

* * *

Outside, the rain pattered gently on the roof and the garden.

"Watch yourself. If you fall down the stairs and ruin this wedding, the ladies will kill you, after I'm done murdering you," she warned Sam. He grinned crookedly at her.

"You look beautiful, Mercy…as pretty as the bride, you know that?" Her heart fluttered, but she kept a stoic look, pasted on her face.

"Now I know you're drunk," she admonished. He sounded sincere, but she didn't trust him. "Are we all ready?" she called back to the girls.

"I'm so nervous," Michele said, twisting her bouquet of white roses, courtesy of the major's garden. Sam stepped up to look over the banister. He said,

"You think you're nervous? You ought to see the groom."

"Does he look like he's about to run?" Mercedes anxiously asked. Sam shook his head.

"I don't know. He looks like a cornered calf in a roping pen." Tears welled in Michele's eyes.

"Maybe he's regretting marrying a wh…" Sam put his arm around her and kissed her cheek.

"No, he's not. He's just nervous. Getting married is a big thing for a man…it's like going into battle. He knows he'll look like a fool, if he runs…besides, he's about to do the most important thing, he's ever done in his life. And he wants to, he's just a little bit scared."

Mercedes looked at him and their eyes met.

This was a side of him, she hadn't seen before.

"That was sweet. Thank you," she said to him. He scowled.

"I didn't do it for you, Mercy."

Mercedes sighed.

It was one step forward and two steps backwards with him, she thought.

* * *

Downstairs, the music began on the saloon piano.

Mercedes took a deep breath, held her bouquet of pink roses and started down the stairs.

She looked down into the curious faces, of about fifty people and for just a moment, when she saw Lieutenant Fortenbury in his best uniform, she imagined it was her wedding.

She smiled at him and he smiled back.

Down by the bar, she saw the minister, the groom and his best man, all dressed up, with their boots polished.

She reached the foot of the stairs and glided over to stand near the preacher. Then, she turned and looked up at the balcony.

* * *

To the strains of the wedding march, Sam came down the stairs with Michele on his arm.

_'If he stumbles and falls and ruins this wedding, I'll kill him,' _Mercedes vowed.

As they crossed the saloon, Sam stared at her, and kept on staring, as if he'd never seen her before. She felt herself flush and ducked her head.

They all stood before the minister, watching and waiting. Reverend Lovejoy asked,

"Who giveth this woman?" Sam had to clear his throat twice, before he could speak.

"I do...her former employer." Some man in the crowd laughed and Sam turned to glare at him. The laughter broke off and Reverend Lovejoy said,

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered at this place, before God and these witnesses…" Somewhere in the crowd, a child whined, asking,

"When are we gonna get some cake?" And the mother shushed it.

* * *

Sam had taken a front seat now and Mercedes was well aware, he was staring at her so hard, she felt naked.

She tried to ignore him and turned her smile towards Buford. Still she felt Sam's gaze on her.

Finally, the minister said,

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

The cowboy grabbed Michele and kissed her soundly, whilst the entire crowd applauded. Sam stood up and signaled for silence.

"I believe, we're all ready for some refreshments and some dancing…led by the bride and groom, of course."

The crowd applauded even louder and moved towards the dining room, while the piano struck up a waltz and the cowboy danced his new bride, out into the middle of the saloon.

* * *

Mercedes realized both Sam and Buford were moving towards her, but Sam elbowed the shorter man out of the way.

"My dear Mercy," he said, bowing low, "May I have this dance?"

"I was going to ask first," Buford argued.

"Oh, shut up!" Sam said and swept her into his arms and danced away.

"That was very rude, Sam Evans," Mercedes said, attempting in vain, to put space between them.

"I got there first, remember?" He grinned down at her and she inhaled the scent of bourbon, his aftershave and some expensive cologne on him.

"Did I tell you, you look beautiful?"

"Mr. Evans, to put it bluntly, you are pickled. I know how plain I am."

"You make it tough to compliment you, know that?" He held her even closer.

"Must you hold me so tight?" she complained, struggling to pull back.

"I must. Now stop trying to be so proper and enjoy our dance," he murmured against her hair.

His breath was warm on her ear, even his big hands were warm. One was on her waist and the other had hers entrapped, so that she couldn't get away.

* * *

Outside, the rain had stopped falling and dusk was setting in.

She peered at Buford, behind Sam's arm. He seemed to be summoning up some courage. Finally, he marched over and tapped Sam's broad shoulder.

"May…may I cut in?"

"No, you may not. This is my dance," Sam snapped.

"Have you no manners?" Mercedes scolded, as they danced way.

"None. I'm not gonna let that ninny, take the woman I'm dancing with."

Mercedes didn't know what to say. She wasn't used to having the attention of two men.

When she was younger, she had always been a wallflower, at any dance she was forced to attend. She would stand on the sidelines, pretending to be laughing and having fun with the other girls, while never being asked to dance.

* * *

It was a warm evening and someone had opened the French doors, out onto the big covered porches, that wrapped around the house.

With the coming darkness, a cool breeze blew through, and before Mercedes could realize what he was up to, Sam whirled her out the French doors and onto the porch.

"What will they think of me, as a hostess…if I'm not in…"

"Who cares? They all seem to be having a good time. Let them be. Did I tell you how gorgeous you look?"

"Several times." She sighed.

"So pretty." He shook his head and his breath stirred the tendril of hair near her cheek.

"Mr. Evans, dancing out here in the darkness with you, is not good for my reputation."

"Mercy, honey, being seen anywhere with me ain't…isn't good for your reputation." Her heart skipped a beat at his term of endearment.

"Now, that's a fact…but I'm not yours, or anyone else's honey," she declared.

"You could be." He paused, looking down at her. She stared up at him in the moonlight and the burning look in his eyes spoke of hot desire.

_'Has to be the liquor,' _she thought. No man has ever looked at her like that before. She was taken aback, and it must've shown.

"I wouldn't worry, if I were you, Miss Jones. You're so innocent, not even I could smudge your precious reputation. I bet you've never even been kissed."

She looked away and flushed.

"That…that is hardly any of your business," she stuttered out.

"You haven't, have you?" An incredulous look was on his handsome face.

"I…no…but when the right man comes along…"

"Hell, woman. You don't know what you're missing." He smirked.

"Don't laugh at me, please."

She looked up at him, into those intense green eyes, now a shade darker and at that full sensual mouth. They had stopped dancing, but he hadn't let her go and she didn't try to escape his embrace.

"Mercy, does it look like I am laughing?"

His eyes darkened further, and she shivered. She was powerless to stop what was about to happen.

Sam bent his head and gently kissed her.

His lips were warm and tasted faintly of whiskey.

His body felt warm and strong against hers, and he molded her to him.

Her mind told her to pull away, but she just couldn't force herself to leave his embrace.

The kiss deepened and her heart seemed to pound, like a bass drum inside her chest.

She moaned, as she felt his tongue flicked along her lips. Immediately, her lips opened, and his tongue entered her mouth.

She leaned into him, completely surrendering, as her plump body melded to his.

The kiss grew deeper, until she found herself gasping for air.

Sam groaned aloud and pulled her closer, if that was possible.

"Mercy…Mercedes…" he whispered against her mouth.

One of his big hands caressed her bare shoulders, until she was shaking.

For a moment, his hand stopped on her throat and she willed him to go lower with his caress, into the bodice of her dress.

His mouth touched her throat and she threw her head back, wanting him to kiss all the way down, until his lips touched the swell of her breasts and…

Faintly from inside, she heard Buford calling,

"Miss Jones. Miss Jones, where are you?"

* * *

Like a cold splash of water, that slammed her back into reality.

What was she doing out here in the darkness with this rogue? She managed to pull away from him.

They were both breathing hard and Sam looked as surprised as she felt.

In her confusion, she turned to go back inside, but Sam grabbed her arm.

His eyes held hers and he shook his head from side to side.

"Don't." His lips looked so pouty and so kissable, she almost gave in and stayed. She gently took his hand off hers and fled, saying,

"I'm here, Buford."

* * *

Sam wanted to punch something, or someone, specifically, Buford Fortenbury.

What did she see in that fool? He wondered.

He decided to stay out in the cool air to calm himself, before returning inside, to follow through with what he had in mind.

* * *

Buford Fortenbury stared at Mercedes anxiously, as she rushed up to him.

"Are you alright, Miss Jones? You look a bit flushed."

Her heart was beating wildly.

Could he tell, by looking, that she'd been kissing Sam with wild abandon? She hoped not.

"I…I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Of course, she wasn't sure.

Her mind returned again and again, to the wildly passionate kiss on the porch. She shook when she remembered it.

"Shall we…shall we have our dance now?" he asked.

"Certainly."

He bowed low and took her hand in his white gloved one, the other, he placed carefully on her waist.

He kept a respectful distance between their bodies, as they waltzed around the floor.

Mercedes danced like she was hypnotized and when Buford whirled her, she saw Sam come in and leaned against a wall, watching her.

His stare was as intense as his kisses.

All she could think about, was his hot, virile embrace on the darkened porch, where she'd acted like a harlot, letting him devour her mouth, run his hands over her…do everything but take her on the porch swing.

She had never lost control of her emotions before.

* * *

The music played on and the officer kept humming in her ear, as they danced.

She hated that.

As he whirled her around the floor, she noted the other officers' wives nodding with approval.

Sam Evans stood on the sidelines, watching her. He looked as puzzled and as confused, as she felt.

* * *

As the dance ended, officer Fortenbury whispered in her ear,

"Would you like to go out on the porch?"

"I…I think it's a bit chilly outside." He frowned.

"It's June. All the French doors are opened and it's hot in here."

"Alright, let's go out," she reneged.

She took his arm and they headed for the porch.

She glanced back over his shoulder and saw Sam Evans sipping a drink and scowling at her.

It made her feel loose.

The way she'd let him paw her…and kissed her…but, dear God! She loved every moment of it and that surprised her most of all.

* * *

She and Buford went out on the porch and stood looking up at the warm Texas sky.

Under the full moon, the lilies glowed like orange fire.

"Let's take a walk through the garden," she suggested.

"I'd rather sit on the porch swing," he said. But she ignored him and dragged him off the porch.

"It's lovely to walk through the flowers," she said. S

he knew, if she sat on that swing with him, he would try to kiss her and she didn't want that, not after…

"These flowers are nothing but common day lilies," he snorted, as they went down the steps and out along the drive.

"I hear, Sue Sylvester came out here every morning, working on her flowers, but she didn't have much taste. My mother wouldn't have had anything so ordinary in her garden. Did I tell you she has a conservatory and raises orchids?" he finished.

"How nice," Mercedes said, as they walked. He paused and took both her hands in his.

"Two proper families, coming together as one. We'd certainly produce some fine quality children, won't we?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"What I'm asking, Miss Jones, is…will you marry me?"

* * *

Mercedes was stunned speechless.

But hadn't she been dreaming of her engagement to this ambitious young officer?

"Miss Jones?"

Was she an idiot? Of course, she should say yes.

Suppose he ever found out, about her kissing Sam out on the porch? Her heart yearned for the Texan, but she pushed him from her mind.

_'Be sensible,' _that was what her mother would've said.

_'Buford is from a distinguished family, as are you.' _

"Uh…of course I'll marry you_, _Lieutenant."

"Buford," he corrected with a smile. And then, "Now that we are engaged, may I kiss you?"

She took a deep breath.

This should be the happiest moment of her life. So, why wasn't it?

"Of course, Buford."

He awkwardly took her in his arms and gave her a big, wet smack on the lips. She resisted the urge to hurl and wipe the back of her hand, across her mouth.

It was extremely different, to the kiss Sam had given her.

But of course, that scoundrel had probably kissed hundreds of women.

* * *

Just passed Buford's narrow shoulder, she saw a blur of grey.

"Look out!"

Her warning came too late.

Sherwin charged the officer, butting him in the rear and tossing him into the lily bed. Then the goat paused, bleating and shaking its curled horns, as if proud of himself.

"Buford! Are you hurt?" He sat up, his white gloves smeared with dirt and sputtered,

"That beast! He ought to be shot and barbecued. He's a dangerous animal." Mercedes reached out and took Buford's hand, helping him to his feet.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know why Sherwin has taken such a dislike to you." Buford was still sputtering, as he brushed himself off.

"I should sneak over some night and kill that goat."

Sherwin returned to munching flowers, as if he didn't have a care in the world.

* * *

Mercedes and Buford started back towards the house.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Buford. He's really a very nice pet and I'm getting fond of him. Besides, I believe Sam Evans would beat you up, if you shot Sherwin."

Buford snorted.

"The owner is as wild and uncivilized, as his goat. Honestly, Miss Jones, you should move out of this place, until you can get control of it…I mean…before your reputation is ruined."

"I…I can't…at least not now. I've got a big stake in this property."

"My dear mother would not approve," he said, shaking his head.

"Neither would mine," she sighed. He smiled at her, as they walked up the steps and went inside.

"We are two of a kind, you know that?" he said. And she smiled.

* * *

There was still a large crowd, but it was mostly cowboys and single soldiers, as the respectable ladies had left.

Of course, the men would stay until the bar ran dry, Mercedes thought.

There was a little pushing and minor insults going on between the some of the guys, but they were all still having a great time.

* * *

Sam Evans' expression was as black as thunder, as Mercedes and the lieutenant returned.

Before she realized what he was going to do, the officer stepped in front of the piano and gestured for silence. Gradually, the room quietened.

"Everyone," he shouted. "I just can't keep this good news to myself anymore. This evening, Miss Mercedes Jones, lately of Lima, Ohio, has consented to marry me!"

_'Dear God!' _Mercedes thought, placing her hand to her lips.

There were cheers from the drunken crowd, but Sam glared a hole in her so much, she had to look away.

Men were gathering around the officer to shake his hand and some were offering him good wishes.

Sam Evans did neither.

He gulped his drink, slammed the glass down on the bar and yelled for another

* * *

Mercedes knew she should be happy, but somehow she wasn't.

Buford Fortenbury was everything she had dreamed of in a husband…respectable, upper-class and fine ancestors.

Yet, all she could think about, was that wet sloppy kiss… and the smoldering one, Sam Evans, the Texan emigrant, had given her.

* * *

**Mercedes did it again. She made me mad. But what a kiss, from Sam I mean, not from that a**hole. **


	22. Chapter 22

**Thank you for your continued support. This chapter starts off with an insight to what Sam was thinking ad feeling after the porch kiss and Buford's announcement.**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

Sam was raging, as he stood at the bar and watched that whiny ninny, lead Mercedes back inside the house.

She looked flustered and confused, but the short officer looked happy and triumphant. She wasn't anymore confused, than Sam was.

He'd kiss the prim old maid out there on the porch, in his plan to seduce her and get her share of the business.

But, he'd never had a kiss affect him like that. Never.

* * *

He signaled Len for another drink. The bartender paused.

"You sure boss? This ain't like you…"

"Gimme another drink, damn it!" he ordered, as Fortenbury marched proudly across the floor, to where the band played and signaled for silence.

Although the drunks in the crowd, cheered at the Lieutenant's bold announcement, there was uncertain applause among others.

The lieutenant wasn't the most popular officer at the fort.

_'What the hell?' _ Sam swore under his breath.

How could she have been out on that porch with him, kissing him, like she was going to surrender her virginity, in such hot passion one minute and a few minutes later, her engagement to that shitty upstart, was being announced?

Fortenbury was so low-down, he'd steal the milk out of a baby calf's bucket. It was all Sam could do, not to throw his glass at the idiot of a man.

Of course, the officer was only beating him at his own game, he told himself.

But, not only was that freak going to take her virginity, it looked like Sam and him would soon be partners.

_'Not even if hell freezes over,' _Sam vowed.

* * *

Everyone was gathering around the officer now, shaking his hand and offering congratulations.

Sam didn't move.

Instead, he glared at Mercedes.

She looked at him and then glanced away.

She didn't look too happy, to have just accepted a marriage proposal.

* * *

Quinn had sneaked in through a side door and blended into the crowd.

No one noticed her leaning against the bar, smoking a cigarette.

She signaled Len for a drink, as she caught Sam's eyes, and smiled at him.

"Hey sport, what do you think of that?" she asked. Sam shrugged.

"He's after her half of the Lily."

"You don't think he actually loves her?" she asked. She sipped her whiskey, smoke curling around her blonde head.

"Of course, not," he snapped.

He remembered the surprise of Mercedes' hot, wild kisses. Now, Buford would get those. The thought made Sam grit his teeth. Quinn winked boldly at him.

"You don't look too happy about the engagement." He shrugged again.

"Except for the battle over the Lily, why would I care?"

"Why don't you come on over to the Bucket O' Blood, Sam? I got a room there and we could have some fun." He shook his head.

"I'm the host. I can't leave."

"Any excuse is a good one."

"What do you mean by that?" he snarled at her.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." She took a big drag on her cigarette and ashes flew everywhere.

"Be careful with that, Quinn, you'll start a big fire someday."

"Yeah. Well, see ya."

She finished her drink and walked slowly out the front door, swinging her little hips. She turned and gave him a smile and nodded in open invitation.

* * *

Sam swallowed hard.

He needed a woman bad, but he didn't want that slut tonight.

Funny, he didn't used to be that choosy and Quinn really knows how to please a man.

He just kept clenching his fists and watching Lieutenant Fortenbury's grinning triumphant face, as he now stood at Mercy's side, with his arm around her.

How dare he?

_'How dare he what?' _he asked himself. If that fool was going to marry her, he had a right to put his arm around her waist.

He was looking at her like he owned her.

That really annoyed Sam.

The members of the Town Beautification Committee drifted over to him.

"Don't say anything," he warned.

"She took him over you?" Will said, more than asked. "That don't make no sense." Pug shook his head and said,

"I reckon, you ain't the ladies' man we thought you was, Sam." Sam's hand itched to punch him for that comment. But he refrained. Pug was still his friend.

"I'm not done yet," Sam countered. And then, "That lock will come off her door, you'll see."

"Yeah, but for which man?" one of the other guys asked and Sam grabbed him by the collar.

"Watch your mouth." The others grabbed his arms.

"Easy, Sam. Don't hit him. He didn't mean nothin," Pug begged.

"I told you, I'm not through yet," Sam said. "You'll see," he finished.

"It don't matter none," Pug soothed.

"It matters to me," Sam snapped. "My pride is at stake. How could she choose him over me?" Will ran his hand through his thick hair.

"Did you ask her to marry you?"

"Are you insane? I may be drunk, but I'm not that crazy." He leaned on the bar and surveyed the room.

"Well, the man that beds her, will have to marry her," Will said.

The others nodded in agreement.

Sam was tempted to tell them about kissing her on the porch, but he didn't. He'd had a feeling out there, that if he'd gathered her up in his arms and carried her out to the barn, he'd have her clothes off and the two of them putting out enough heat, to set the hay on fire.

"Just wait," he promised.

* * *

The bar ran out of liquor, so the men began to drift away.

The bride and groom had left hours ago, but no one seemed to notice.

Now, as the crowd thinned, Sam marched over to where Buford and Mercedes stood, accepting congratulations, and said,

"Time to go home, soldier boy."

"Are you ordering me out of here?" Fortenbury asked.

"I am," Sam said. Mercedes bristled.

"You can't do that. I'm half owner…"

"Remember, we run a respectable house and time for gentleman callers to leave," Sam said.

Her eyes blazed.

Why had he never noticed, how long her lashes were and how endearing her freckles are?

"You aren't suggesting we'd do anything improper, are you?" she seethed. And then. "Buford, my honor is at stake here."

Sam grinned at her.

Surely she didn't expect the cowardly officer, to take a poke at the best saloon brawler in Texas?

"Uh…" said the shorter man, wiping sweat from his brow.

"I'm merely closing the Texas Lily, for the evening. Good night, Lieutenant," Sam said.

Fortenbury acted as if he wanted to argue, then seemed to realize, just how tough and muscular the Sam was.

"Very well. I'll see you tomorrow, darling." Mercedes held out her hand awkwardly and said,

"Good night, Buford."

He kissed her hand, claimed his hat from the frowning Carmen and left the house. Mercedes turned to Sam.

"That was rude."

"Yeah, I know. I'm a rude fellow."

"Worse, you're drunk," she said.

"Also guilty. Good night, Miss Jones."

He stumbled towards his room and tripped against a table leg, caught himself and kept walking.

Behind him, Mercedes watched him go.

Yes, he was everything she didn't want in a man…savage, virile, rude and of no background. He was everything the Lieutenant wasn't.

She heard him stumble into his room and slam the door so hard, the house shook.

Carmen gave her a disapproving frown and began to turn out the lights.

Mercedes stood there in the growing darkness, trying to decide what to do. She shouldn't care that the scoundrel was angry with her, but somehow, it mattered.

* * *

A few minutes later, Mercedes tiptoed across the floor and down the hall to Sam's room. She rapped lightly on his door.

"Mr. Evans? Sam?"

"What the hell do you want?" He sounded annoyed.

"I…I want to explain to you…"

"Go away."

She stood there, hesitating.

What did she want? This was not at all proper…she knew it and yet, here she stood.

She should go up to her room and dream about her upcoming wedding to Buford.

Once again, she was back in the garden, getting that big, wet smack of a kiss. She had, maybe, fifty years of those kisses ahead of her, she thought.

Without a second thought, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Mr. Evans? Sam?" The door opened suddenly, and he stood there, big and manly, with an angry expression on his gorgeous face.

"I said, what the hell do you want?"

* * *

Mercedes was paralyzed with indecision, staring up at this drunken, sexy man, remembering that wild, passionate kiss.

Passed his shoulder, she could see his bed and the way he was looking down at her, told her exactly what he was thinking…about gathering her up in his arms and taking her there, to make sweet, hot love to her.

She was completely unnerved at the bold need in his eyes.

"I…nothing. I didn't want anything," she got out.

She turned on her heels and fled down the hall, up the stairs, into her room and closed her door, locking it.

She stood gasping for air, as she leaned against the door.

Why had she done such a foolish thing? Buford was right, she needed to move out of this place as soon as possible.

* * *

**I blame Mercedes' upbringing for the way she is. Smh.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Thank you for your kind support.**

** Some of you have been asking for some background on our two main characters. Sadly the book doesn't really give much, but I will try my best to do so in a couple out-takes, after the story is completed. There are just a few chapters left, so bear with me, please. Thank you.**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

When Lieutenant Buford Fortenbury left the Texas Lily, he was both angry and humiliated.

He figured Mercedes had expected him to challenge Sam Evans, but he was not about to do that, unless he had the edge.

Everyone knew Sam could fight and no one made trouble at the Lily.

He got into the major's car and started out, waving his fist at the goat.

"Someday, you 'walking chops and roasts', I'll see you cooked and enjoy every bite of it."

The goat lowered its head and bleated a challenge at him.

What was he to do now? Kissing Miss Jones tonight had aroused a need in him, but of course, he couldn't expect a respectable girl like her, to satisfy his needs. For that, he needed a slut like Quinn.

He's been at the Bucket O' Blood several times, since she's left the Lily.

The place was rough, and he hesitated about going there, but it looked almost empty tonight.

He pulled up at the front and went in.

* * *

He leaned against the bar.

"Give me a whiskey."

The swarthy bartender glowered at him and slid him a drink in a dirty glass. Buford frowned and wiped the lip of the glass with his hand.

"Is Quinn around?" The dirty man nodded towards the back.

"You got money?"

"Yep, to last me hours." The bartender laughed.

"In your dreams Romeo. Maybe you'll last an hour, this time."

Buford looked at the size of the man and decided not to take offense. He got up and walked towards the back.

"Quinn?" She opened her door with a smile, and a cigarette in her hand, then her smile faded.

"Oh, it's you." He gulped the rest of his drink.

"Who were you expecting?"

"Never mind. Anyway, you just got engaged, what are you doing here?"

"Are we going to stand out here, or are we going into your room?" She opened the door wider and gestured him in.

"You got money?"

"Yes. Loads. I 'll be here for the rest of the night." Quinn laughed in a way that made him wince.

"Well, you're ambitious, I'll say that for you. I only know one man, who can go many rounds and you ain't that man. He's over at the Lily."

Buford had a sudden urge, to hit her across the face and keep hitting her until she was on her knees and begging.

"I didn't come here to be insulted."

"I know what you came here for…what they all come here for." She sounded tired and disappointed. "You want another drink?"

"Sure," he replied.

* * *

He sat down on the edge of the bed, while she poured the drink and poured herself another.

"If you're not nicer to this customer, maybe I won't come back."

Quinn laughed and knocked her drink back, then poured herself another.

Smoke curled around her hair and she flicked ashes with an unsteady hand.

"Be careful with that smoke," he scolded. "Ain't burning down one building enough for you?"

"We both know, that I didn't mean to do that. You were afraid to come to my room at the Lily, so we ended up in that hotel." He grunted.

"If you burn down this dump, the locals might run you out of town. They still might, if they find out you burned the hotel." Quinn shrugged.

"There's nothing in this town for me anyway…just men. And there's always men wanting to climb me, anywhere I go. But there's only one man I've ever cared about. Sam. If he could show any real interest in me…"

"Sam, Sam. I'm damned tired of hearing about that gambler. He ain't that much," he complained.

"You're kidding, right?" She laughed without mirth.

"He's special…a two-fisted Texan, that's all man and can make a girl glad to be a woman," she boasted.

She wasn't looking forward to this, but a girl had to make a living.

"Your elegant fiancee wouldn't do it for you, huh?"

"She's a lady," he coldly said.

"And I ain't?" He smiled.

"We both know what you are, Quinn. Give me another drink."

She poured him another and one for herself.

* * *

When she'd heard a man's step in the hall, she'd jumped up, hoping that Sam Evans had changed his mind and come to her.

She was sorely disappointed to see the officer.

The lieutenant was clumsy, and his height wasn't the only thing, that was short about him.

"Let's get this over with," Quinn said. He sneered.

"You'll treat me with more respect, when I own half the Texas Lily. You'll be back working there, too, you and a dozen more whores. I've got big plans."

Quinn began removing her dress.

She almost laughed.

"Sam Evans will let you take half the Lily, over his dead body. And I wouldn't go up against him, if I was you." He reached out and grabbed her breast, roughly.

"He isn't so tough."

"I've never seen him beaten in a fight," she threw at him and tossed her cigarette to the floor and stepped on it.

"Shut up, slut!" He slapped her, then began to take off his uniform. "Maybe I won't have to fight him. Maybe he'll have an accident."

* * *

Quinn rubbed her stinging cheek.

Sam would've killed a man for hitting a woman.

She cared about him, really cared, even though, he didn't seem to know she was alive.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, he got shot at the fake raid, didn't he?"

"Folks say that was an accident," she said, knowing it wasn't, by the look on his face. He jerked her to him.

"Was it? Something like that could happen again. Then Mercedes and I would own the whole place."

"You really love that prim and proper miss?" He laughed and sat down on the bed. "

Are you joking? When I marry her, I'll control her and her half."

"Do I fit into this somehow?" She knelt before him and took off his boots.

"Sure, Quinn." He leaned over and grabbed her breast again. "When I own the whole of the Lily, I can do anything I want…like move a mistress in…and _she_ can't do anything about it. Then I'll have two women to sleep with, plus, all the whores."

_'You couldn't satisfy a woman, even if she paid you to.' _She sighed and reached up to kiss him.

"Make love to me tiger."

* * *

He was more like a small tom cat.

He struggled to complete the act and those wet kisses, were almost more than Quinn could stomach.

She pretended that it was great, moaning and clawing at him.

He finally gave up after a few minutes, rolled over and was snoring in seconds.

Quinn laid there hot with need and thoughts of Sam Evans.

She had to warn him about the lieutenant's plans.

* * *

As morning approached, she shook the officer awake and sent him back to the fort.

It wasn't quite dawn, but she sneaked out the back way and walked to the Texas Lily.

* * *

It was a quiet morning and there was no one about.

That was good.

She didn't want anything getting back to the officer.

* * *

She knew where Sam's room was.

She went around the back and threw a pebble at his window.

No answer.

She threw another pebble.

Sam came awake and stumbled to the window. He raised it and looked out.

"Quinn? What do you want?" She looked around.

"Let me in. I've got important things to tell you."

He nodded and disappeared.

He appeared at the back door and motioned her in.

She followed him into his room, but she didn't close the door behind her.

"God, Sam, you look like you've been ridden hard and put up wet."

"I feel that way, too. How come you're here waking me up?"

"I need to tell you something." She watched as he poured himself a whiskey.

"It'd better be good. I probably would've slept 'til noon."

"You never used to drink like this, Sam."

"That's none of your business," he snapped. And then, "What do you want?" She moved closer.

"I got news."

"You've said that." He looked at her coldly.

"Boy, you've got the disposition of a mad bull. Is living with Miss Jones doing that to you?"

"Leave her out of this," he snapped again. He slammed his glass down and started pacing up and down on the rug.

"Are you upset the lieutenant is gonna marry her and end up with half the Lily?"

"What do you think?"

"Listen, he came to me last night after he left here."

"What did he want?" She laughed.

"What do all men want?"

"Even after he's announced his engagement to Mercy?"

"Ain't that a joke?" Quinn laughed again, but Sam didn't.

"Damn it! And she thinks I'm a rascal. Tell me what you know, Quinn," he said.

"Okay. The lieutenant hinted, that it was no accident about you getting shot." Sam whirled on her.

"That little bastard shot me?"

"I reckon so, from what he said. He may try again, especially if he marries her…if he gets rid of you, he controls it all." Sam strode up and down, swearing.

"I'd tell her what a rat he is, but she wouldn't believe me." Quinn caught his arm.

"What's with you caring what she thinks? You know I've always had a soft spot for you, Sam."

"I know. I'm sorry, Quinn…" She placed her finger to his lips to stop him.

"It don't matter, if you don't care as much for me, as I do for you. If you'd just keep me around and make love to me once in a while, that would be enough for me."

She looked up at him and saw the need there in his eyes.

Sadness enveloped her.

She wished, she had been the woman, who fired that need.

Before he could react, she slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

* * *

For a moment, Sam let her kiss him and then she felt him pulling away from her, but she still clung to him.

"What's going on here?"

They jumped apart, startled.

Mercedes Jones stood in the doorway, arms akimbo, wearing a purple robe and looked angry enough, to take on a rattlesnake and give it first bite.

"Mercy, I can explain…"

"This is none of my business. But we're running a respectable business now. If you must have your harlots, please meet them some place else."

"Why, you…" Quinn began. "I should pull your hair out," she finished. Mercedes glared at her, her brown eyes ablaze with fire.

"Don't try my patience. Now please get out of my house."

"Your house? This ain't just your house…"

"Mr. Evans, get her out of here," she snapped.

* * *

Mercedes had followed the slight noises to Sam's room and found the pair, in what she thought, was a hot embrace.

The slut had probably spent the night with the rascal, satisfying that hunger, she had seen in his green eyes last night.

* * *

Sam grabbed Quinn by the arm and turned her toward the back door.

"She's right, Quinn. Clear out and we'll talk later."

"Okay, sport."

She cast one defiant stare towards Mercedes and marched out the back door.

Mercedes watched her go.

She was both furious and something else, she didn't want to admit.

She knew exactly what that emotion was, when she saw that tart hugging on Sam, but she'd never admit to it.

* * *

"If you must bed her, do it at her place."

"Mercy, it's not what you think."

"Do you think me a fool?" She raised her voice to an unladylike pitch. "You were pawing each other, like you were about to go down on the rug like two animals."

He reached out and grabbed her arm.

He felt the same tingle as before.

And like before, he chose not to say anything.

"Okay, so we were kissing…rather, she was kissing me. But, she really came to bring me information."

She yanked out of his grasp, instantly missing the warmth of his hands.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"Listen to me Mercy. She came to tell me, that my being shot was no accident. Your precious lieutenant deliberately shot me."

"What? You have sunk to a new low, Sam Evans," she snarled at him. And went on to say, "It isn't enough that you've brought a notorious whore, into what I'm trying to turn into a respectable hotel, but you try to cover your tracks with a ridiculous story. Well, I don't believe a word of it!"

She turned and marched out of the room.

* * *

Sam stared after her.

There was no use trying to convince her.

She'd never believe him.

There was only one way to get even with the dangerous officer.

Sam would have to seduce Miss Jones, before she married that rotten bastard Buford and he gain control over her half the Lily.

Seduce a woman?

A grin blossomed on Sam's face. He could do that, couldn't he?

* * *

**Well, there you have it. Buford is officially a scum bucket. And Mercedes is a silly goose...but can you blame her? And Sam, he knows he's falling for her, he just doesn't want to admit it. Until next time, much love to you. **


	24. Chapter 24

**Thank you kind people. I appreciate your continued kind support.**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

Will Shuester stared out of his office window and watched Mercedes Jones driving by in her car, headed for the train station.

Boy, had Sue Sylvester made a mess of things, by leaving that niece of hers, half the Texas Lily.

On the other hand, Mercedes seemed to be doing a thriving business, the last couple of weeks, using the big house as a hotel.

He wondered idly, as he ran a hand through his thick hair, if Sam had ever found that big box in the closet and done what Sue had requested.

He must remember to ask him, or Carmen, about it sometime.

At least, he no longer had the responsibility of sending money, to that Lima bank, like he'd been doing regularly for the last ten years.

* * *

Somewhere in the distance, he heard the fort band playing, but not too well.

He winced, as the music floated with the breeze.

The major should stick to growing roses, he thought.

Then, he heard the whistle of an incoming train.

He went to the door and looked out, watching Miss Jones alight from her car and step up on the platform.

She was no doubt, looking for passengers.

* * *

He peered down the street, at the majestic Texas Lily.

Yes, it was big enough to become a hotel.

It would make an even better mansion for a rich family, but of course, no one in town, except for some men, was eager enough, to use it as a private residence.

* * *

The train roared into town, chugging and blowing its whistle.

Will watched Miss Jones approach three people, who got off.

The three nodded, gathered their luggage and walked towards her car.

Will grinned.

She was a hard-headed little thing and she might turn the notorious bordello, into a respectable hotel, yet

. That, of course, would be over Sam Evans' dead body.

* * *

Later that morning, Will saw Sam driving into town.

He went to the door and signaled him.

"Come on in and visit with me." The taller man entered the office and asked,

"Have you seen any of the boys? I'd love a game of poker."

_"She's _not allowing that, either?"

Will tried to hide his grin, as they entered his disorganized office. He gestured for Sam to sit in a worn, but comfortable chair.

Mercedes Jones was the first woman he could remember, who had managed to deal with the stubborn gambler.

Sam flopped down in the chair and sighed. "

The Texas Lily is now so damned respectable, I can hardly stand it."

"Are you turning a profit?" Sam nodded grudgingly.

"Just barely, not like before. You know what she's got the girls doing?"

"Not bouncing on a mattress, that's for sure." Sam snorted.

"They're waiting tables. Waitresses, for God's sake!" Will laced his fingers together and grinned.

"I thought you were planning on charming her, to do anything you wanted?"

"Hell," Sam said scowling. And then, "She ain't…isn't, your average woman. I ain't…am not getting anywhere with her."

"That's unusual for you." Will leaned back in his chair and put one boot on his untidy desk. "Women usually fall on their backs for you."

"Well, it may have something to do, with what happened with Quinn, a couple days ago," Sam admitted.

"Quinn? I thought she'd moved to the Bucket O' Blood."

"She has. But the other morning, I let her into my room, about dawn and the prim Miss Jones caught her."

"Uh-oh. That'd be kind of hard to explain," he said and immediately thought,

_'Only Sam could have women slipping into his room…lucky rascal.'_

"I tried, but Mercy was really unreasonable about it."

"I imagine so."

"She caught Quinn with her arms around me, kissing me." Will threw back his head and laughed.

"In some ways, Sam, you haven't changed."

"It was really innocent," Sam insisted. "Quinn came to tell me, Lieutenant Fortenbury was the one who shot me, during our fake raid. He admitted it to her."

Will swore.

"That short, sneaky bastard. He'd steal the butter off a sick beggar's biscuit." Will sat upright in his chair. "You tell Miss Jones?"

"Yeah, but she wouldn't believe me."

* * *

Sam's thoughts drifted to the night of the wedding, when they'd kissed out on the porch.

She had raised his desire in a way, he'd never thought any woman could and he had wanted to sweep her up in his arms and carry her to his bed.

But he'd never admit that for the world.

* * *

"I'm beginning to think, no man can get the drawers off that strait-laced, stubborn woman," he said.

"Sounds like the lieutenant is planning to," Will offered.

That thought annoyed Sam to no end.

He didn't like the idea of losing his image as a lady-killer and worse yet, he hated the thought of his Mercy in bed with that nincompoop.

_His Mercy. _He caught himself after a few seconds.

_'Yes, my Mercy.' _

Buford couldn't handle her, anyway…he wasn't man enough.

"So, what should I do about the lieutenant, Will?"

"Legally, you can't prove anything. And no police officer, would take the word of a known whore like Quinn, over the lieutenant's. The best you can do, is watch your back and be ready, in case he tries something again."

"As a southerner, I'm yearning to beat the hell out of him," Sam said.

"If you hit him, Miss Jones will feel sorry for him and think you're a bigger savage, than she already does."

"I've got one more idea," Sam said smiling. "I could seduce Miss Jones and then tell that bastard, so he'll break the engagement. He's so proud and haughty, he won't take seconds from someone like me."

Will frowned and rubbed his forehead.

"Kissing and telling ain't your style, Sam and it's definitely not something a southerner would do to a lady."

"You're absolutely right, Will," Sam started and then smirked. "I'm gonna do more than kiss her. I'll do anything to keep Buford from ending up, owning half the Lily."

"But, your charm hasn't worked on her, so far," Will reminded him. That really annoyed Sam.

"I haven't fully put my mind to it, yet. Do you actually think, I couldn't get into her panties, if I set my mind to it?" He started for the door and stopped.

"She may be a tough cookie, but it's one of my favorite snacks." Will smiled and Sam asked.

"You think we could get the boys together, for a game of poker? I miss the old days."

"Where? At the Lily?"

"Are you joking? She's even outlawed the bar, except for a little wine and maybe some mint juleps. What kind of Texan drink wine?"

He made a face, snorted and turned towards the door.

"Will, I just wanted someone else to know about the lieutenant, in case you find me shot in the back, some night."

"Be careful, Sam. Fortenbury is yellow enough to do that. Maybe you should tell the major. He's hankering to deal with the person who shot you." Sam smiled.

"And tell him what? Nope, I think I'll have to deal with him myself. I think I'll go to Pug's and see if he's got anything that might please a lady."

"Quinn?"

"She ain't…she's not a lady. I mean Mercy. I got to stop her from marrying that damned snot-nose officer. He's as slick as calf slobber."

Sam left and walked down the sidewalk.

It was only after he'd gone, that Will remembered, he'd forgotten to ask Sam, if they'd found that mysterious box.

Oh, well, he'd mention it next time. After all, _how important could it be?_

* * *

Sam entered Pug's store.

"Hey there, hombre," he greeted. "Long time no see." Pug grinned and shook his hand.

"Are we ever gonna get together and play poker again?"

"Maybe in Will's office. Mercy doesn't like gambling at the place anymore."

"Are you letting a woman boss you around?" Pug asked, his bushy eyebrows going up.

"She just seems to have a knack, of getting her own way," Sam admitted with a shake of his head. "I tell her how it's gonna be and she just smiles and does it her way."

"That ain't like you, Sam," Pug said, swatting a fly.

"Well, she's not your average woman," Sam said. "And as a hotel, we're starting to make some profit. A good hotel will bring lots of new folk into town."

"So does a good whorehouse," Pug tossed in.

"I meant respectable people," Sam followed up.

"Now you're beginning to sound like _her_."

"I'll go along with it, until I change her mind," Sam assured him.

"She don't look like the type to be swayed easily."

"Well, I'm workin' on it, but she's as stubborn as an army mule. I need a nice fancy perfume…"

Pug blinked in disbelief.

"What's wrong? I want the fine stuff, not something the whores would wear," Sam said.

"Here's a dozen bottles on the counter you can take a sniff at."

"You can't really get the full scent, just sniffing the bottle," Sam complained.

"You want I should dab some on?"

"Well, yes, There's no one around. Put a little behind each ear and let me sniff it." Pug shook his head.

"I don't know about that."

"Do you want to sell some expensive perfume, or not?"

"Alright. But if I go home smelling of perfume, what's my wife gonna say?"

"Tell her you were with Quinn, at the Bucket O' Blood." Pug snorted.

"You tryin' to get me killed?"

He dabbed a little from the first bottle. Sam closed his eyes and sniffed.

"What's that called?"

_"Dior Pure Poison."_ Sam shook his head.

"The name is appealing, but that don't smell like Mercy. Try another one." Pug splashed some on his bulldoggish face.

"This one is called _Amber Musc." _Sam leaned in and sniffed. Just then, some of the Beautification Committee walked in.

"Well, well. What are you boys doing?" Dimples asked. They were all grinning like polecats.

"This place smells better than a whorehouse," Luke threw in.

"Nothing smells better than a whorehouse," Dimples added. Sam sighed wistfully.

"The Texas Lily used to smell great. Now, it smells like soap, furniture polish and apple pie. Pug, you have anything else?"

"I have one bottle left of some expensive type, I let the drummer talked me into ordering."

He reached into the display case and withdrew a fancy looking bottle.

"Here boys, take a whiff of this. It's called _Scandalous_ by Victoria's Secret." Sam shook his head.

"Even if it smells good, I don't think Miss Jones would be caught dead, wearing a scent with a name like that."

* * *

Pug scratched his head and dug into the display case again.

"Here's something just as expensive, or more, called _Mademoiselle_ by Coco Chanel."

"Now that sounds more like her and it's pretty too."

Sam grabbed it and took a sniff. It smelled heavenly. Bergamot, Jasmine and other lovely scents inflamed his nostrils and his thoughts went straight to Mercedes.

"I think this will do." Luke grinned.

"You giving perfume to another man's fiancee? He ain't gonna like that."

"Good!" Sam snapped. "Maybe he'll call me out. I'd like nothing better, than for Mercy to see me whup his ass, like a big dog on a mangy pup."

"Mercy?" Dimples asked. "You call her Mercy?"

"Shut up!" Sam shouted. He laid out the money for the perfume and pocketed it. Luke patted him on the back and said,

"We've still got faith in you, Sam."

"Nobody can beat a southerner, when he really goes after something," Sam said. He nodded and finished off with, "Wish me luck," and started for the door.

"You're gonna need it, with that stubborn woman," Pug said.

"Aw, women are all the same," Sam said, as he left.

But he wasn't quite sure, he believed that any more. Mercy was different, in a good sort of way, even if she wasn't a southerner.

* * *

Sam returned to the Lily.

Mercedes Jones was bustling about, setting tables.

"Where have you been?" she asked and she didn't smile. "I've got three new guests, besides the two we already have. Carmen is fixing something to eat, but I promised them your barbecue for tomorrow."

He gave her his warmest smile and said,

"I'll be happy to do that. I believe you've got a good idea here, Mercy. I mean, about the hotel and all." For once she smiled back.

"Thank you. Doesn't it feel good, to be respectable for a change?" she asked.

"I don't know. I've never been respectable."

"Well, you're about to find out. We're showing a profit already. Soon, you won't have to stay up late, drinking and gambling, you can go to bed at nine o'clock, like any respectable person."

_'Why in the hell would anyone want to go to bed at nine o'clock?' _He asked himself, as he watched Mercedes' ample behind in that blue dress waggle, as she walked away from him.

Suddenly, he could think of one reason, for going to bed that early.

* * *

The last two girls, Elaine and Eva, came downstairs, dressed in plain purple tops and black skirts, with little black aprons and black flats on their feet.

They wore no make-up and looked as respectable as choir girls.

Mercedes gave them orders and they bustled about, setting tables, folding napkins and adding little flower arrangements, to make the place look classy.

"Uh…Mercy, have you got a minute?" Sam asked. He felt the perfume box in his pocket.

"I told you I was busy." Her voice and expression were cold. It appeared she hadn't forgotten about catching Quinn in his arms.

"Alright, it can wait until this evening, or maybe after dinner."

"Good." She smiled. And then, "Now, Sam, go wash up and be charming to our customers. If they like our place, they'll spread the word to other travelers.

_'Sam? Did she really call me 'Sam'?' _he asked himself. He liked the way she said his name.

"Sure. I'll be charming," he said, giving her his best smile.

* * *

And he was charming indeed.

He was so charming, two ladies were almost swooning in their soup, to catch his every word.

* * *

The next morning, he caught Mercedes walking through the main room, at a fairly brisk pace. He caught up to her in no time.

"Was I charming enough for you yesterday?" She frowned at him.

"You didn't have to be that charming. Those women were ready to pull off their undies for you."

_'Wait! Is she jealous? Mercy? Nah.'_ He tried to look contrite.

"I was just doing what you told me to do. I think you're still angry about Quinn."

"Now, why would I be?" Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. "I heard a noise downstairs and found a slut in your arms." Sam whistled at her tone and at her words.

"I thought such language was beneath you, Miss Jones." She gave him a frosty stare. "Look, I'm sorry about that…and about what happened with Quinn. But you know, men are just weak, vile creatures, whose thoughts seldom go above their belts. Quinn was there to tempt me."

"If you've got to have her, go down to the Bucket, or somewhere else."

"I don't have to have her, and I don't want her. Besides, she ain't the one that tempts me, no matter how much she throws herself at me."

"It didn't look like you were fighting her off."

"She…she caught me by surprise."

"Uh-huh." Her mind seemed to be elsewhere. "You know, perhaps the hotel needs a little gentlemen's lounge, where we serve liquor and the men could smoke,' she offered.

Sam went speechless for a moment. He stared and blinked at her.

"Y-you mean that?" he asked, finding his voice.

"Certainly. You could stock some fine brandy, of course some mint juleps would be nice…and anything else you could think of, that a man would drink. And I could serve some Sherry…"

"Sherry? That's a lady's drink." He laughed.

"I'll have you know, Buford says he prefers Sherry."

"I rest my case," he said and then realized he was off on the wrong foot again.

"I'm sorry, Mercy. I shouldn't have said that. When I'm around you, I act like a damned fool."

"I won't argue with that," she said.

_'Touche.' _

A growing suspicion gnawed at his mind, like a rat on a corn crib.

"Uh…Mercy…just where did you intend, to set up this gentlemen's lounge?" She brought her hand to her chin and leaned on it thoughtfully.

"Your office."

"My office?" Sam almost shouted.

"You needn't squawk, like a turkey gobbler being chased with an axe," she complained. "After dinner, we'll discuss some other changes I have in mind," she finished.

* * *

Sam was exasperated.

He had to put a stop to this, before it got out of hand.

"Perhaps, this afternoon we could take a drive," he offered.

"Where?" She looked at him with suspicion.

"We could drive out and see some land I own on the edge of town."

"Hmm. Maybe we could sell it and use the money to improve the Texas Lily."

"Sell my land?"

"You're squawking again, Evans."

"Miss Mercy," he started, forcing himself to smile, although he wanted to shake her. "The land under discussion, does not belong to the partnership. It solely belongs to me."

"Oh? Well, we'll look at it anyway, now that we are in agreement."

She marched to the kitchen, leaving Sam standing there, with his mouth hanging open and a strong urge to strangle her.

* * *

_'Agreement? I didn't agree to anything…or had I? When I'm around that woman, she confuses me.' _

Sam grinned to himself.

This headstrong woman, thinks she could just wrap him around her little finger.

_'Hell, she'll soon find out I'm nothing like that piece of work Fortenbury.'_

* * *

They had a delicious early dinner, complete with a huge beef roast, corn on the cob, apple pie and homemade ice cream.

They had three hotel guests, plus five who had come for dinner.

The girls managed to set the table and serve the meal, only spilling soup in a gentleman's lap once.

The guests all leaned back with happy sighs.

"Honestly," said one, "That was the best apple pie I ever had and the coffee was hot, just the way I like it."

"Gentlemen," Sam started, pushing back his chair. "Would you like to adjourn to the gentlemen's lounge for cigars and brandy?" All the men at the table, eyes lit up.

"This is a first-rate hotel. I'd love to," one piped up. Mercedes gave Sam a triumphant nod that made him want to shake her, but he smiled and said,

"Certainly. The Texas Lily is the best hotel in Town."

* * *

Later that evening, Sam had Josiah bring his car around the front.

He turned to Mercedes, bowed with a flourish and said,

"Miss Mercy, I promised you an afternoon ride." Mercedes hesitated, yet yearned to go.

"I'm not sure what Buford would think…"

"You don't trust your own partner?"

He looked hurt.

Her common sense told her, she shouldn't trust him, any farther than she could throw Sherwin the goat, but she didn't want to be rude and say no.

"Thank you, for allowing your office to be used as a lounge," she said. Sam appeared to be gritting his teeth, but managed a smile.

"My pleasure, dear lady." Mercedes warmed to him.

"I'm looking forward to the drive," she kindly said. And she meant it, even though, she sensed, she was playing with fire.

* * *

They advanced to the porch and down the steps.

Sam placed his big hand on the small of her back, to help her into the car.

For just a moment, he hesitated, his hand warm, and now on her arm, as he looked deeply into her eyes.

Immediately, Mercedes remembered the way he had kissed her.

She took a deep breath, knowing she should never allow herself to be alone with Sam Evans.

Then, he helped her buckle the seatbelt and went around to the driver's side.

* * *

Inside the car, she said to him,

"I know how to drive…"

"Maybe so, but I'm drivin'." Her heart fluttered at his accent, but his tone brokered no argument. He was definitely in charge.

"Alright. It's a nice evening, isn't it?"

"The weather in Texas is always perfect."

"I don't think so," she disputed. "I hear the summers are hot as hell and the winters sometimes have blue northers, that freeze people in their tracks."

"For a Texan, that's perfect," he said.

She decided, she wouldn't argue with him. He was stubborn and determined, but they had that in common.

* * *

The weather was warm, and the lilies were in the last stages of bloom.

"I don't know why Aunt Sue only planted common orange day lilies," she complained. And then, "They're so ordinary."

"Sue was just plain folk…nothing snooty about her," Sam said, as they went down the drive.

Sherwin glanced up, then returned to eating the flowers around the birdbath. It was almost as if, he protected the rusty thing.

"So, you think I'm pretentious?" she asked, glaring at him. He grinned and she was reminded of how white and straight his teeth are, in his handsome face.

"Miss Mercy, I don't know that big word. And let's not fight, like two coyotes over a carcass. Let's just enjoy the ride, shall we?"

"You have a way with words, Mr. Evans." He grinned and winked.

"Call me Sam." She was already regretting coming on this drive. He real fear was being alone with Sam Evans.

"Nonsense," she said aloud, and Sam asked,

"What?"

"Nothing," she replied, internally berating herself for her outburst.

Sam decided to let it slide.

He made small talk about the town, but Mercedes hardly listened, as she grew more and more ill at ease, sitting next to him.

He took a narrow dirt road, but still within sight of town and came to a stop.

"Here it is. It's only about five acres, but it's beautiful here." Mercedes looked around.

"It's more than beautiful, with all these big, live oak trees trailing Spanish moss. This would make a lovely town park."

"Park? Lady, this is where I plan to build a bigger and better saloon."

He flew from the car with an incredulous look on his face. He came around and helped her, from the car.

* * *

When he brought her out, he didn't remove his hands from her fingers or her back. He just stood there looking down at her.

There were so close, she could feel the heat from his muscular body.

Now she remembered why she didn't want to be alone with him.

The kiss came to mind…that all consuming kiss and suddenly, she was afraid…but of what? She couldn't decide, if she was afraid he'd kiss her again, or that he wouldn't.

_'Mercedes Jones, are you out of your mind? You are a respectable, engaged woman,' _she scolded herself internally. She managed to pull out of his grasp.

"It's a lovely piece of land. Right over in that meadow, would be a good place for flowers and a grass lawn."

"It's perfect ain't…isn't it?" She felt him step up close behind her. "I bought it last year, when Sue and I was talking of expanding." His arms slipped around her waist. "I brought you a gift," he softly said.

She looked down at his big hands, trying to decide, whether to make an issue of him touching her. While she hesitated, he pulled her back against him, flush onto to his front.

"Uh…Mr. Evans…"

"Call me Sam." His face was so close to the back of her head, his warm breath stirred her hair and raised goose bumps on her neck.

"Remember, I'm an engaged woman." Sam rolled his eyes.

"How could I forget?" His big hands seemed to encircle her waist so possessively. "I got you some perfume."

"You…you shouldn't have done that." Her heart was beating so fast.

"I wanted to. When I smelled it, it reminded me of you." He put his face against her hair, sniffing it.

"Umm…Mr. Evans, I don't think you should…"

"Sam…call me Sam," he whispered.

She turned in his arms, meaning to protest, that this wasn't proper. Then she looked up at him, into his intense gorgeous eyes and his mouth looked so sensual and so inviting.

* * *

"Mercy?" he whispered, as if asking permission.

_"I must not give in. I must not surrender. I must not lose control of my carefully planned life,' _she chanted in her head.

"Mercy?"

He kept looking down at her, all wide shoulders, handsome features and virile body.

His big hands came up and took her head between them, very gently tilting her face up to his.

_'I must not do this,' _she screamed inside of her head, but she couldn't control herself, as his lips came down to cover hers in a mind-blowing kiss.

Her lips automatically opened and her eyes closed, as she lost herself in the kiss.

She gasped and moaned, ever so slightly, angling her head, surrendering to the tantalizing, paralyzing feel of his tongue, as it danced and dueled with hers.

She found herself returning his kiss with ardor, as it deepened and grew passionate. Her small hands went to the back of his neck, as his arms pulled her closer, until she could feel the heat and the power of him, all the way down her body.

His lips felt soft and full and now the tip of his tongue was teasing hers, and driving her crazy.

She opened her mouth wider and his tongue slipped back inside.

Mercedes trembled, clinging to him, wanting more, so much more. She wasn't sure if it was her heart, or his that pounded so hard, but it didn't matter at this point.

She felt the cords of his neck, under her fingertips and the softness of his blonde hair, that curled in her hands.

His manhood was hard and throbbing, against the softness of her sheer dress.

When she took a deep breath, he smelled of Polo Red and she tasted the sweetness of his mouth.

* * *

After a while, Mercedes pulled away and Sam looked as shocked, as she felt.

"Mercy…God Mercy," he whispered and she started to protest, what they were doing wasn't right, but his mouth covered hers again and she forgot all of that.

He drew her up in his arms and kissed her with everything in him.

He started trailing kisses over her cheek and down her neck.

"Mercy…what are you doing to me?" he moaned, as he leaned over and sat her against the trunk of a big tree.

The grass was soft, as he sat down beside her, took her hand in his and kissed the back of it very gently.

The evening sunlight dappled his face, through the shade of the leaves and she became faintly aware, that somewhere, a bird was singing.

She saw her hands tremble, as she reached out, to run one through his tousled hair.

"I…I think we shouldn't be here…alone. I'm an engaged woman." Sam lay his head in her lap and looked up at her earnestly.

"If you want to go, we will," he said and waited…

* * *

**I know, I've asked myself the same thing...why did you end this here? Silly woman. :) The next chapter will begin where this ended, promise.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Thank you! **

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

Mercedes Jones was in a conundrum.

She knows, she should've told Sam, she wanted to leave, but she couldn't seem to do anything, but look down, into his intense green eyes.

After a couple minutes of her not saying anything, Sam reached up, caught her head in his hands, and kissed her again.

She felt her dark locks, come loose and tumble down, so that it hung around them like a velvet curtain.

His fingers found their way into her hair, tangling, as he brought her further down to him and kissed her harder.

The kiss broke and he laid his face against her breasts, seemingly catching his breath.

Mercedes became aware, that her dress was a bit sheer and through it, she could feel the heat of his face against her breasts.

It seemed to burn, like a branding iron.

She knew, she should scramble to her feet and demand that he drive her back to the Lily, but somehow, she couldn't make herself do that.

Her pulse seemed to be roaring in her ears and she was intensely warm all over.

* * *

Sam turned his face, ever so slightly and kissed one of her breasts through the fabric.

She leaned back against the trunk of the tree and let him nuzzle there, as feelings she had never yet experienced, flooded her body.

* * *

She closed her eyes, feeling his mouth wet and hot through the fabric.

She gasped, breathing hard, her mouth opened, as his hand found the neck of the dress and pulled it down.

A cool breeze washed over her bare breasts, as his mouth latched onto one of her taut nipples.

His teasing tongue, felt like fire and yet, she pulled him closer to her, wanting more.

"Look at me," he commanded, his breath hot against her bare breast. "Mercy, look at me."

She opened her eyes slowly and met his smoldering green gaze, even as he turned his head and deliberately kissed her breast, laving it with his tongue.

She knew, she should tell him to stop, but all she could do, was pull him closer still, until his mouth took more of her breast, sucking hard.

His hand pushed up her dress and stroked her thigh, all the way up to her white lace panties.

Mercedes had never felt such delicious sensations in her life.

If Sam wanted to slam her down and mount her right there in the open, like some common slut, she wasn't sure, she could stop him.

Instead, she leaned over and kissed his cheek, letting her legs fall apart, as he stroked her inner thigh .

"I want you, Mercy," he whispered huskily. "I want to be with you, in a way that you have never before."

Dear God! She was so weak when it came to this man. Hadn't she fought this feeling, since the first time she had seen him? She had to change the subject.

"What…what about the gift?

"Perfume," he said and smiled. He reached into his back pocket and brought out the box. "Let me put some on you," he offered.

* * *

Mercedes watched, mesmerized, as he took off the lid, put a dab on his finger, and set the bottle back in the box on the grass. Then, very slowly and deliberately, he ran his finger down between her breasts. Her breath caught.

"I…I don't think…" she lost her train of thought, as his fingers played up and down her exposed chest.

"Mmmm, smells wonderful," he murmured. He bent his head, sniffing her skin, she could feel his warm breath between her breasts, which were begging for his mouth to take them, again.

"We…we really should go…" she began.

"Anytime you say, Mercy," he whispered.

He kissed her again and again, his hand went up her legs, drifting to her inner thigh, and finally on top of her panties, where he started to play with her most private part.

* * *

Mercedes suddenly felt warm and damp there.

She forgot everything, but how good it felt to be in his arms, with his face pressed against her breasts and his hand rubbing her panty-clad womanhood.

Sam drew himself up a little, hovering over her, kissing her deeply, as his hand explored the warmth and depths of her tight, wet sweet hole.

* * *

Mercedes was on fire, and right now, she wanted Sam to extinguish it.

The grass beneath her felt soft and a slight breeze blew across the wooded landscape. At this moment, there was nothing in the world but the two of them and the scent of the perfume, he had trailed between her breasts. Nothing mattered but being in his arms.

"You're so beautiful," he gasped. "I never realized how lovely you are."

He kissed her again, with such an intense passion, that it almost sounded, as if he meant it.

No one had ever told her she was beautiful.

Her intellect told her, it wasn't true, but she couldn't pull away from the heat of his wild embrace.

New emotions consumed her, she couldn't name them, and she didn't reject him, or object, as his kisses grew hotter and deeper.

His hands moved her, ever so gently, but he was still hovering over her.

Now his fingers felt like gentle flames, as they kneaded and squeezed her breasts.

"Soft as silk," he whispered. "So pretty," he finished. His lips found her breast again, making her arch up, to meet his lips and wanting him to take more of her breast into his mouth.

She grabbed his neck and pulled him down, encouraging him to touch and taste and tease her, until she was shaking and gasping for air.

"Sam…Oh God…Sam…"

"Tell me you want me," he said.

He brought his face up to her and kissed the corner of her mouth.

"Tell me!" He kissed her eyelids and each cheek. He was breathing hard and his face was dark with desire. His green eyes grew darker too, as he took her face in his hands and kissed her passionately.

Did she want him? Hell, yes. She had never felt feelings like these before.

She needed him.

Right now, she needed him, to quench the raging fire within her. She didn't care that they were out in the woods. She yearned to mesh with him, like two wild animals.

* * *

Just as she was about to whisper her consent, a sound drifted across the breeze…the off-key, discordant sound, of the army band practicing, with the tuba going, 'oompa, oompa, oompa'…_Buford._

Mercedes sat up abruptly, startling Sam and almost knocking him backwards, and then, smoothing her rumpled dress.

"We are out of our minds. I'm a respectable, engaged woman. Take me home this instant." Sam looked confused and angry.

"Mercy…"

"Miss Jones to you," she snapped and tried to stand up, but he was on the edge of her dress. She stumbled and fell back into his arms.

"Do you mind?"

"Yes. I do mind," he groaned. "But I believe that's the end of it," he finished.

"How dare you?"

She grabbed the perfume bottle and doused him with it.

She was still straightening her dress, as she marched, nose in the air, towards his car.

Sam stood staring after her, confused, put-out and reeking of 'Mademoiselle'.

He had only meant to seduce the prim old maid, but when he'd kissed her, passion took over. He forgot everything, but the girl in his arms, the taste of her mouth, her milk-chocolate skin and the most delectable, perfect breasts he'd ever touched, or tasted.

He wanted her, as he'd never wanted a woman before. His pulse pounded in his ears.

"Mercy?"

She didn't answer, or turn around. She actually moved faster, heading for his car, showing a flash of her pretty leg, as she lifted and pulled her rumpled dress.

Sam couldn't move.

He stared at the vision of unconsummated passion, with her mane of dark hair, flowing about her shoulders.

As he stood there dumbstruck, she got into the car and took off.

"Hey, that's my car," he yelled after her.

"So?" she yelled back and kept driving.

"Well, damn! That's the last time I ever left my keys in the car."

* * *

Sam stood there, looking at his departing car, as the sound of Major Bottoms' band, floated on the breeze.

At this moment, he wanted to stuff Buford Fortenbury into his tuba.

That raucous riot had interrupted the hottest passion he had ever experienced.

If only, he'd had another five minutes to…five minutes? Hell, he wanted hours of ecstasy in Mercy's arms, between her legs and buried deep inside of her…hours and hours of it.

He cursed himself, for not getting the officer out of her thoughts. If the Town Beautification Committee got wind of what happened, they would laugh like a pack of hyenas and more so, if he couldn't mange to seduce the girl.

The car disappeared into the distance and the June afternoon turned hot and stifling, as only east Texas could be.

* * *

It was a long trek back to the house and Sam, like most southerners, wore boots. And as with most southerners, Texans to be precise, 'walk' was a dirty four-letter word, that was not in his vocabulary.

Right now, he couldn't help his situation.

If he called anyone of the guys, he'd never hear the end of it. Plus, he really needed to walk off the excess adrenaline he had.

He looked down at the bulge, that was still prominent at the front of his pants, gritted his teeth, ran his hand through his blonde hair and started back along the dusty road.

He couldn't keep his mind off Mercedes and how she'd surprised him with her hot ardor.

In those few moments, under that tree, he'd needed her like the air he breathed.

And that scared him.

He felt like he was losing control.

And he was always in control, when making love to a woman.

He was beginning to wonder, if he could outwit this headstrong woman. She was pretty smart, he'd give her that.

What was he going to do?

With a resigned sigh, he continued his long walk home.

* * *

As Mercedes sped along, she thought about the way she had left Sam.

To be honest, she didn't want him in the car with her.

He might touch her hand, or worse yet, slip his arm around her and then, she'd melt like butter.

She took a deep breath.

The scent of the perfume lingered in her nostrils and in her mind, once again, his fingers trailed between her breasts.

* * *

In the distance, the army band played and tuba rose above all other sounds, breaking her from her thoughts.

'_Buford, have I been unfaithful to you? How could I, a respectable woman, have let myself be pawed and kissed, by that low-class southerner?' _

Her mind returned to the taste and heat of his mouth, the soft caress of his lips on her breasts. Dear God, how could she explain trampy sensations like that, to a high-class gentleman like Buford?

She couldn't even explain it to herself.

One moment they had been looking at the landscape, the next, he was kissing her, the next, she was on the ground, with his hands under her dress and his tongue between her lips.

She must be losing her mind, to surrender like that.

She was putty in Sam Evans' hands.

Everyone in town, said he could talk a dog off a meat wagon, or a cow out of her calf. And they were absolutely right.

Since she couldn't trust herself any more around that randy rascal, she needed to marry Buford, as soon as possible, to stave off temptation.

Surely, one man's kisses couldn't be that different from another's. She recalled Buford's wet, smacking kisses and knew she was lying to herself.

* * *

Presently, she pulled up in front the Lily and exited the car, calling for Josiah.

As he came around the house, she could've sworn he had stared at her rumpled appearance.

Or was it her imagination?

She felt her cheeks flush, as she rushed up the steps and into the house. She nearly collided with Carmen, who paused and stared at her.

"You alright, Miss?"

_'I must look a mess.' _

"Course I am."

She marched up the stairs, with as much dignity, as she could muster, considering her dress had smudges of green from the grass. And there were leaves and dandelions in her hair, which hung in disarray around her shoulders.

Damn it Evans!

He had deliberately tried to seduce her and she had almost fallen for it.

He was probably laughing right now.

She went into her room, closed and locked the door. She had to oversee supper for the guests and Buford was coming over tonight.

Could he look into her eyes and see the guilt there?

Even knowing what a rascal Sam was, it was difficult to resist him. And judging from his smooth manner, he'd probably slept with a hundred women.

That thought annoyed her.

She washed up and changed into a blue denim shirt dress, complete with belt and a pair of black thick heeled sandals with a single ankle strap.

She put her hair up, in a mass of curls, then slapped her cheeks and sucked in her lips, to give them a rosy glow.

* * *

Downstairs, she heard the front door slammed, and a pair of angry boots stomping through the front hall.

She opened her door tentatively and peered over the railing.

Sam looked hot, angry and disheveled.

"Mister Sam…what…?" she heard Carmen started to ask.

"Don't ask."

"Okay…but you sure smell good."

"Hell!" he snapped, stomping towards his room and slamming the door so hard, it echoed through the house.

* * *

Mercedes smiled.

He was hot and tired...and angry. Served him right.

She floated down the stairs with a serene smile on her face.

Carmen looked at her, as she descended.

"Wow, Miss Jones. You look like your mother."

"I do? When did you meet her?" The old woman paused for a beat in confusion, then blurted,

"I think Miss Sue showed me her picture."

"Oh. Is supper ready for our guests?"

"Yes ma'am. If'fen I can get the girls to set the table. And it would be nice if Mr. Sam could entertain the men with drinks in the lounge. He sure looked, as mad as a hornet-stung hound dog…wonder what happened to him?"

"I have no idea. I suppose, I can set up drinks and cigars for the men in the lounge."

* * *

She was still in the lounge when the first of their guests came in.

"Come on in, gentlemen. There's whiskey in the decanter and fine cigars in the humidor," she said. One of the men smiled at her.

"It's a treat, to see such a pretty lady. Are you Mrs. Evans?" Mercedes frowned.

"Certainly not! We're only business partners." Sam came in about that time. He looked fresh and smelled faintly of a woman's perfume.

The guests sniffed and looked puzzled, but Mercedes smiled and avoided his gaze.

"Good evening, gentlemen. Let me pour you a drink before dinner," Sam said. One of the other men smiled and said,

"I believe this is the best place I've stayed in, for a while." Mercedes nodded to him and blushed.

"I should say thank you. And please, pass on the word to other travelers, won't you?"

As she started out of the room, with Sam glaring at her, she called back over her shoulder,

"Supper will be on the table in a few minutes. Mr Evans is a master of the barbecue. I hope you gentlemen like it."

"Yes," Sam said, glowering at her. "I like to build a fire under everything and let it smolder."

Mercedes felt her face flame. She fled the room, leaving the men to their liquor and cigars.

* * *

He was mad alright.

Well, let him grumble. She hoped he had blisters on his feet, from the long walk home.

* * *

Supper passed pleasantly enough and then, as the diners started to get up, the doorbell rang.

Carmen came out of the kitchen to answer it.

"I believe that is my fiancé at the door," Mercedes said and smiled sweetly at Sam, who was staring daggers at her.

Buford came into the entry hall, twisting his hands with a nervous look about him. He looked as though, he expected Sam, to pick him up and throw him back through the door and down the steps.

"Buford, dear," Mercedes said and went to meet him, with outstretched hands, then linked her arm in his. "Everyone, this is my fiancé. We're to be married soon."

Buford looked at Sam, as if he might make a break for it and run like a jackrabbit.

"Are you ready, Miss Jones? I've borrowed the major's car," Buford stated."

"Ooh! I love driving with a _gentleman."_

She emphasized the word, as she got her jacket off the coat-rack, by the stairs.

"Don't wait up for us. We may be out a long, long time," she announced.

"Wow!" Buford's eyes widened. "I-I mean, anything you say, Miss Mercedes. The evening is nice and pleasant."

"It's your company, that makes it pleasant, Buford," she said, looking pointedly at a scowling Sam. "Night all. We're off," she finished airily.

* * *

As they were leaving, she heard Sam grumbling under his breath.

"What's eating him?" Buford asked, as he helped her into the car. "He looked like he wanted to tear my head off," he finished.

Mercedes shrugged, as Buford got in and started the car.

"Who knows? He's just a low-class gambler…let's not talk about him. I want to talk about marrying you, Buford. You're so fascinating?" Buford perked up.

"You really think so?"

"Certainly. I want to hear all about your ambitions and future plans."

That got him started.

She hadn't realized how often he used the word 'I' until now. In fact, he could hardly get through a sentence without it.

She kept thinking, he might at least mention her and what the future held for them, but he didn't.

At some point, she decided, she could let her mind wander, if she nodded and said,

'Oh really?' and sometimes, 'And then what did you say?' to him, while he droned on and on.

She tried to listen to him, she really did, but her mind kept straying back to this afternoon and what happened with Sam, under the tree.

She hid her blush from Buford, and he finally pulled up along a dirt road, under some trees.

* * *

When Mercedes looked around, she realized it was the same place, she had been that afternoon…with Sam.

"Shall we take a stroll?" he asked.

"Uh…no. I don't think so," she started, shaking her head. "There might be bugs in the grass."

"Bugs? You think so?" He sounded alarmed.

"Definitely," she said, schooling her features.

In her mind, she was thinking, the grass might be still matted down, where she and Sam had been indulging in carnal activities, just a few hours ago.

Buford looked disappointed.

"I only thought…never mind," he said, sounding just as disappointed.

Mercedes couldn't care less.

She knew, he might try to kiss her and she definitely didn't want him to kiss her.

The wet kiss he had given her, the night they became engaged, was like being licked in the mouth, by a friendly hound dog.

"Yes, there might be spiders in the grass, Buford, or even snakes," she said with a straight face.

"Snakes?" he squeaked. She had his attention now. "I…I never thought of that."

"So, we can just sit here in the car and enjoy the evening," she offered.

After a few minutes of silence, Mercedes grew weary and said,

"Maybe we should go home, Buford."

"Go home? I thought you said, we were staying out late."

"Did I say that?"

"Yes," he nodded. "You looked right at the gambler and said that."

_'To annoy Sam,' _she thought.

"Let's just drive around the perimeter of the old fort," she said.

* * *

They drove around the fort and down the main street, passing by the Bucket O' Blood, where a few local cowboys were liming out front.

As the car passed, they started to harass the lieutenant, shouting,

"Hey Buford, does your mama know you're out?"

"Hey there, lieutenant, how about buyin' some _real _men a drink?"

"Just ignore them, Buford," she ordered. And then, "They're just looking for a fight."

"A fight?" His eyebrows rose and his feet hit the accelerator, to go faster. "I wouldn't stoop to fighting in the street or a bar. Even though I've had lessons."

Mercedes sighed, mentally comparing him to Sam Evans. She imagined the Texas ruffian was good with his fists.

"We can sit on the swing, out on the lawn at the Lily," she suggested."

"That goat is usually out there," he said.

"Well, maybe he won't be tonight. Honestly, Buford, are you afraid of a goat?"

"He's a big goat," Buford defended himself.

"I'll chase him off," she said, "And it'll be pleasant sitting under the stars in the dark." He grinned at her. And she noticed he was slightly buck-tooted.

"How romantic. I have a little present for you, my dear."

Mercedes was flattered, but not too happy.

What had she let herself in for? This was getting more and more serious and the thought of sleeping with this man, made her shudder.

"Are you cold, Miss Jones?"

"Uh…not at all."

She didn't want to give him any excuse, to put his scrawny arm around her.

* * *

They started up the drive, to the Lily and the goat was nowhere in sight. Buford breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"I'll just leave the car in the drive and we will sit on the swing, out in the lily bed."

"Alright," she answered, and wondered how long she would have to stay out here.

* * *

Buford got out and came around to help her out.

But she moved quickly, not giving him a chance, for his hand to linger on her.

They walked out into the center of the lily garden and sat down on the creaky old swing.

Mercedes scooted as far as possible to her side.

Buford turned and looked anxiously towards the big house.

"You think they can see us out here?" he asked.

"I don't know. I don't think so." He stared at the big white bird bath.

"That's an ugly thing. I hope you decide to get rid of it, when you take over here."

"Get rid of it? I happen to like it."

"Well, if you think so, keep it then."

"Remember, Sam gets a say in this."

"Honestly, Mercedes, I wish you'd stop calling him Sam," he said.

He turned towards her and took one of her hands. His hands were small and sweaty, but she managed not to pull away.

"I have an engagement gift for you," he said, smiling.

_Engagement._ Only hours ago, she had been about to surrender her virginity to another man. She's never felt so guilty and unworthy, as she does now.

"Really? Buford, you shouldn't have." It was probably a ring, and she sighed. How could she marry one man, when her lips still longed for another?

"Well, it's a valuable family heirloom," he started to explain, digging into his pocket.

"It's classic and very tasteful, just like you. I know, my mother will be delighted for you to have it," he finished.

"I don't know what to say, but I'm sure your mother and I will like each other," she said. He beamed at her.

"You are kindred spirits. You'll love Mama and if we go back east, we can all live together."

"_If _we go back east? I can't imagine why we'd want to stay here."

Texas reminded her, too much of Sam.

She needed to get far, far away from him.

"Here, my darling. This is for you."

He held out his hand and opened it slowly.

In it sat a diamond lily-shaped pin. The moonlight sparkled on it. It was exquisite and it took her breath away.

Buford smiled at her reaction.

_'One point for me...zero for Evans.'_

* * *

**I can't say much here, without giving the story away, but I'm sure you guys recall, there's a missing diamond pin. **


	26. Chapter 26

**Thank you kind people. **

**Standard disclaimer**

* * *

"This is really beautiful, Buford. I can't tell you how…"

"Here, let me pin it on you," he said with a smile. And before she could move, his hands were fumbling with her dress.

"Let me do it!" she demanded and took it away from him.

She really didn't want him pawing her bosom. It made her think of Sam's deft, skillful touch and she gritted her teeth, hating the randy gambler.

* * *

Buford rattled on.

"Since it's an old family heirloom, I thought you should have it…you'll be part of the Fortenbury family soon, anyway."

Mercedes paused, uncertain about what she had let herself in for.

"Buford, I think you should wait to give this to me, when we're sure…"

"Sure? I'm absolutely sure. We'll be uniting two respectable families and produce wonderful children…one thing though, my dear Mercedes. You shouldn't wear it around town."

"Why not?" He chewed his lip and his wispy mustache wiggled.

"Well, you know how villainous these low-class Texans are…someone might rob you."

"First of all, I trust all the people at the Lily…" he took her hand in his damp one, making her pause.

"I think any of them, especially that gambler, Evans, would steal it in a heartbeat."

Somehow, his sanctimonious tone annoyed her.

As much as she disapproved of Sam, she didn't think he would stoop so low, as to steal from her. But, nevertheless, she conceded.

"Alright, whatever you say. It's wonderful just to own it. I've never had anything so fine."

She stared at the sparkling diamond pin in her hand. It was very beautiful indeed.

* * *

"I think this calls for a kiss." He leaned over and planted a wet, cold smack on her lips, before she could move away from him.

Once again, she pictured fifty years of kisses from this man…and even worse.

The thought made her shudder.

"My dear, are you cold? Perhaps I should put my arm around you and…"

"No, in fact, I'm too warm." She scooted to the far side of the seat and fanned herself with her hand.

"You know, now that we are engaged, it's perfectly respectable for us to spoon a little."

"Spoon?" she blinked. He smiled sheepishly.

"You know, a little kissing…"

"Uh…Buford, I'm from a very respectable family. My mother would roll over in her grave, if she thought I would do anything intimate, before marriage…and our family believes in _long _engagements."

"Oh? Very well." He sounded annoyed.

The swing creaked loudly in the silence.

Somewhere in the back, the faint bleating of Sherwin the goat, could be heard.

"I'd like to shoot that filthy beast," Buford muttered.

"If you do, Sam would mop up the floor with you."

"Sam? You're still using that familiar name for him?" She didn't answer. He drew himself up proudly and said,

"Besides, I'll have you know, I've had lessons in self-defense. I think I can defend myself, if need be."

* * *

Mercedes laughed internally.

She envisioned Sam Evans, turning the prissy officer upside down and slamming him into next week. But she decided it wasn't polite to say so.

Like a magnet, her head swiveled towards the house.

She could see Sam's scowling face, as he stood at the window peering out.

"He's watching us," she said.

"Who?" Buford asked, turning to look. He saw Sam. "He has his nerve spying on us. What do you think he wants?"

"I don't know. He probably wants me to come in."

"What business is it of his? I am your fiancé and you're not his child."

* * *

Sam came out on the porch and lit a cigar.

Mercedes could see the tip glowing and his annoyed face in the moonlight. She stood up.

"I think I'd better go in, before he comes out here." The lieutenant stood also.

"If he does, I intend to challenge him."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Buford. He's the rough and tough type and you're a…"

"Gentleman," Buford finished for her and nodded primly.

"Of course, and ladies hate to see bloodshed."

She didn't say whose blood.

Sam would kill Buford in a fight.

She opened her purse and slipped the diamond pin inside.

"Why don't we set a date for next year?" she said. He caught her hand.

"Next year? I was hoping for July or August."

"That's too soon, Buford," she said in a panic. "A big society wedding, takes at least a year of planning…just ask your mother," she said.

Sam had come down the steps and was now standing on the driveway, as if he was about to come over to the swing.

"Uh, we'll talk later. I'd better go," she said and fled through the lilies, towards the house.

* * *

Sam stood, feet wide apart, glaring at her, as she approached him.

"It's about time you came in," he snapped, looking at his gold watch in the moonlight.

"Are you insane? It can't be later than eight o'clock."

"Right," he nodded. "Way passed time for a respectable girl to be outside. I saw you out there fooling around with that joker."

"Fooling around?" She was seething, as she leaned closer, speaking between clenched teeth. "You are the low villain, who had me in the grass, pawing me, just hours ago."

"And as I recall, you were enjoying every minute of it." He grinned at her and she felt her face heat up.

"No gentleman would do that."

"I've never claimed to be a gentleman, Mercy."

"You know what? Just leave me alone, sir. I am an engaged woman and all you're worried about is Lieutenant Fortenbury getting his patrician hands on some of your filthy lucre."

"Can you speak English, please? Us low-class Texans, don't know big words like that."

"Then, can you understand these? I am going to marry the lieutenant. Stay out of my business."

She tried to brush passed him, but he grabbed her arm, looking down at her.

"Mercy, I'm sorry, it's just that…" She felt the magnetism of his gaze again, and it unnerved her.

"What?"

But before he could answer, she pulled out of his grasp, and marched across the lawn and up the steps. Then she ran up the stairs to her room, closing and locking the door.

She leaned against it, breathing hard.

Her good sense told her, she could not stay in this house with Sam Evans, or he'll have her clothes off, before she'd even realize it.

Sam Evans was as dangerous, as a mustang stallion.

She would marry the dull, reliable officer and lead a safe, respectable life.

* * *

She opened her purse and took out the small diamond pin and studied it.

It was a beautiful piece of jewelry and certainly quite valuable.

She went to her bureau and opened the bottom drawer, hiding the pin under a layer of lace underwear. Then she headed to the shower.

* * *

Sam looked down the long driveway, at the sight of the prissy officer and the car disappearing in the distance.

Damn that snooty loon.

His mind traveled back, to when he had stood looking down at Mercedes, as he grabbed her out on the lawn.

He'd love the way the moonlight had danced on her dark hair and lit her dark, brown eyes.

Why had he ever thought she was plain?

She was just plain beautiful, when she was angry or aroused.

He'd almost kissed her, as she looked up at him, defiant and angry. However, she'd pull away from his grasp and the moment was lost.

When he had seen Buford sitting close to her, on that swing and attempting to slip his hand around her, it took everything within him, not to stride out there, grab the officer by the collar, and sock him so hard, he would knock over the big birdbath and end up soaked.

He was furious, that Buford was being so familiar with Mercedes.

He turned and walked up on the porch, still angry. Without thinking, he turned and smashed his fist against one of the pillars.

_'God! That hurt!'_ He hopped about, cursing and nursing his bruised hand.

"Damn it, Miss Jones! My life has been hell, since you showed up…and it's not getting any better."

He held the injured hand in the other and stumbled inside.

* * *

The house was dark and quiet. Everyone had gone to their rooms, it seems.

He stood looking up the stairway, rubbing his bruised knuckles.

He wanted to go up those stairs, kick Mercedes' doors down and…and what? Kiss her? Make love to her? Throw her over his knee and paddle that juicy, round bottom, until she saw the truth about that crooked officer?

None of that would work with Mercy.

She was as stubborn and independent, as a hog on ice.

With a sigh, he strode to his room. He flopped down in his chair and stared at the wall.

* * *

Just above his head, Mercedes was getting ready for bed.

He imagined her long dark hair falling down her bare, milk chocolate shoulders, as she put on a sheer, lacy nightgown and climbed into that big, white bed.

"You little vixen," he grumbled. "You've made my life so miserable."

He tried to block out the memories of this afternoon, under the tree, but he couldn't help himself.

No woman has ever aroused him like that.

It had to be her innocence, or maybe the fact that she was so unattainable.

There was no way, he could admit defeat to his friends…or to himself, he vowed.

* * *

Upstairs, Mercedes couldn't sleep.

She ought to be ecstatic, after all, she was engaged to be married into an aristocratic family.

So, why was she so miserable and uneasy?

She knew why.

When she'd confronted Sam in the driveway, a few minutes ago, there was a tension between them, that made her nerves as taut, as a bowstring.

She'd felt he was about to kiss her, with the same molten passion of this afternoon.

In fact, she'd caught herself rising up on her tiptoes, to meet him.

He could charm a bird out of a tree, alright, or a woman out of her virtue.

One of them was going to have to sell out to the other and move out of this house, that was now becoming a respectable hotel.

With Buford's family's wealth, she wouldn't need the Lily.

However, if she sold out to Sam, he'd certainly turn it back into a bordello and gambling den and Mercedes couldn't entertain that thought.

* * *

Downstairs, she thought she could hear the chair in Sam's room creak.

She imagined him sitting there, looking up at the ceiling.

She could almost feel his gaze.

Was she insane?

Maybe it was all in her imagination. She dropped off into a troubled sleep.

* * *

_Mercedes got out of bed and ran down the stairs barefooted, wearing only a sheer lace nightgown. _

_She arrived at Sam's door. She didn't even had to knock. The door opened suddenly, and he stood there, looking down at her, his green eyes burning into hers. _

_She took a step closer and wordlessly went into his arms. _

_He held her tightly. She could hardly breathe. _

_"I've been waiting for you, baby," he whispered and kissed her, really kissed her. _

_He broke the kiss, to pick her up and carry her to his bed. _

_As if she was a priceless ornament, he carefully deposited her on his huge bed and started backing off his clothes. _

_"I've been waiting for you, all my life," he said, as he hovered over her, in all his naked glory. "And I've been waiting for you." _

_She sighed and brought his lips to hers, knowing he was about to make her a woman, his woman… _

Mercedes sat up suddenly in bed, breathing hard, with a yearning in her nether regions and a thin layer of sweat on her brow.

_'Just a dream. Damn you, Evans!' _In her mind, Sam was dangerous and unpredictable, not safe and reliable like the lieutenant.

_'Staying in this house, is like playing with matches in a hay field,'_ she said to herself.

But what could she do?

* * *

Next morning, Carmen served breakfast to the guests and left the girls, Elaine and Eva, cleaning off the tables, as she started up the stairs with a tray.

Neither Sam nor Mercedes had come to breakfast and she was concerned about the conflict between them. _'_

_Hmm…the two of them is like fire and gasoline together. Before it's over, there's gonna be a blaze, that may burn down the Texas Lily.' _

She arrived at Mercedes' door and rapped on it, as she called,

"Miss Jones? I got your coffee." Mercedes opened the door, she was still in her nightgown, tousled and sleepy.

"Thank you, Carmen. Come in. I'm attempting to get dressed."

Carmen entered and looked around observantly.

This wasn't like brisk, well-organized Miss Jones, at all. She placed the tray on the table and asked,

"Can I help you, Miss?"

"No, I think I can manage." But Carmen noted, Miss Jones didn't seem to be managing very well, as she stood there in her nightgown looking about.

"I can't seem to find my shoes." Carmen began to search and found them, and others, kicked under a chair.

"Here they are, Miss."

This was strange.

Usually, Miss Jones was so precise…her things, her life…they were all very orderly. Now, she watched, as the lady dug through her drawer, muttering,

"I know I have clean black underwear in here, somewhere…"

* * *

A sparkly piece of jewelry flipped out on the carpet and Carmen stared at it in disbelief.

She watched the lady picked up the diamond pin and put it back in the drawer. Carmen asked,

"Where did you get that?" Mercedes smiled sheepishly.

_'She looks just like her mother, alright.' _

"Well, it's supposed to be a secret, but a gentleman gave it to me."

So, Mr. Sam had indeed taken the pin he had given Miss Sue, only the day before her death and given it to the younger woman. Not that Miss Sue would have minded, Mercedes having it, in fact, considering who Mercedes is, Miss Sue would have heartily approved.

However, the whole thing seemed sneaky and underhanded somehow, and Sam had never been that.

"Are you alright, Carmen?" Mercedes paused in her search.

"Uh…yes, ma'am. I…I'm fine. I got work to do," Carmen lied and fled the room.

'_Strange',_ Mercedes thought, staring after her. Maybe Carmen wasn't feeling well, after all, she was not as young as she used to be.

When the Lily could manage it, Mercedes wanted to hire more help and retire the old cook.

However, she shrugged off the cook's odd behavior, and got dressed, in a black knee-length pencil skirt with the hem ruffled and a red, snug fitting t shirt.

* * *

Sam was seated alone, at the big dining table, drinking coffee.

He looked disheveled and grumpy, but still managed to look sexy.

Of course, Mercedes couldn't entertain that last description, she had to retain her stern demeanor.

"Well, as you Texans would say, you look like the dogs have had you under the porch," she said. Sam glared at her with bloodshot eyes.

"I didn't need you to tell me that, Mercy." She sat down at the table and kept her face sober.

"You need to shave and clean up a little," she tossed his way.

"I won't, if I don't want to," he snapped.

"My, we are in a bad mood, aren't we?" She rang the little bell on the table and Carmen stuck her head out of the kitchen. "May I have some breakfast, please?"

Carmen nodded, frowned at Sam, and disappeared.

"Wow!" Mercedes started, "What did you do to make her mad?"

"Me?" He blinked his bloodshot eyes. "Carmen and I have always gotten along." The clock in the hall chimed ten times.

"You'd better hurry. The committee is coming in thirty minutes," she said.

Sam sipped his coffee and rubbed his forehead with a shaky hand. He could feel a headache coming on.

"What committee?"

"The new Nacogdoches Beautification Committee," she smugly said. And then, "They want to plan the Fourth of July celebration."

"What's to plan?" He asked shrugging. "We always put on a parade, then roast a steer, bring out a couple barrels of beer and launch some fireworks."

She frowned at him.

"That's not what Mrs. Bottoms, Reverend Lovejoy and the ladies have in mind." Sam sighed.

"You've been changing things, ever since you got here, Mercy."

"Change is not bad." She nodded her thanks to Carmen, as the old woman brought her a plate of ham and eggs and a stack of fresh biscuits.

Carmen frowned at Sam again and went back in the kitchen.

* * *

Mercedes dug into her breakfast with gusto. There was also freshly churned butter, homemade blackberry and wild plum jam, to go with the light, fluffy biscuits.

Who would think, she used to get by on a cup of weak tea and plain toast.

"I told them we could meet in the morning room," she added.

"Morning room? What the hell is a morning room?"

"Don't be profane," she scolded him. "Did I forget to tell you?" She smiled at him over her coffee cup.

"We now have a morning room. It's a place where ladies can sit and have tea." Sam stared unbelieving at her.

"The Texas Lily now has a morning room?"

"Yes. Since we're now a respectable hotel, the ladies need a pleasant place to gather and we can charge them for the tea and cookies."

"All the old biddies in Nacogdoches, are gonna be gathering here for tea?"

"Let's hope so." Sam groaned aloud and looked skyward.

"Miss Jones, if I could possibly raise one hundred thousand, would you sell out?" She considered his offer for a short moment and then shook her head.

"I had no idea, I had such a talent for the hotel business. We're starting to show a profit."

"Miss Jones," he started again, his voice taking on a slight edge. "Need I remind you, that the Texas Lily was making tons of money before you came along?"

She smiled.

"But now you're respectable."

"Respectable?" he grumbled. "There're so many cowboys and 'gentlemen' who are mighty disappointed, to hear how the place has been transformed."

"Now, you've only got fifteen minutes," she said, looking at the small gold watch on her hand. "But, you don't have to be on the committee, you know. I think we ladies and the reverend can handle it."

"Fine," he snapped and stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go shoot some pool."

"Uh, you haven't used the pool room in a long time. I thought you were tired of the game." He shrugged.

"I just haven't had the time. I love my pool room." He turned and walked towards the back of the house.

* * *

'_Oh God!' _Mercedes sat there sipping her coffee and tensing for the angry shout that was sure to come. It came a few seconds later.

"Miss Jones! What in the hell happened to my pool room? Get in here!"

She took a deep breath, stood up and hurried to the back of the house.

* * *

The big room, was on the east side of the house, so that the early morning sun streamed in.

Mercedes pasted a smile on her face, as she entered.

"It's nice, isn't it? We finished it two days ago, when you weren't around." Sam's face was red. It looked as if he was restraining himself, from strangling her.

"What in the hell happened here?" he gritted.

She looked around.

The pool tables were gone, replaced by a tea table and dainty chairs, upholstered in pink suede.

The room had been wallpapered in pink petunias and the windows dressed in pale pink chintz. Ribbons were everywhere. There were even needlepoint pillows on the Victorian chairs.

"Miss Jones?"

"It's a morning room," she explained and took a nervous breath. "Isn't it pretty?"

"Pretty? Pretty?" he roared like a lion ready to attack. "This is my hideaway…me and the boys. What did you do with my cigar humidor and my pool table?"

She cleared her throat.

"They're out in the barn."  
"What? My pool table is out in the barn?" he thundered.

"Don't you hear well? I said it was." He marched right up to her and glared down at her. "Well," she started off nervously. "There isn't a need for a pool table in a morning room. Besides, there wasn't room, once we got the pink settee and tea table in."

* * *

Sam opened his mouth, but no words came out.

He took two deep breaths, as if trying to control his temper.

"Are you alright?" she asked, looking up anxiously at him. "Honestly, I think you live with too much stress. That's not good for your body, you know," she finished.

"Stress?" It came out, almost as a whisper. "Miss Jones, I never had any stress, until you moved in."

She didn't respond to his accusation.

Instead, she looked at her watch and said,

"The committee is due any minute." Sam couldn't believe this woman standing in front of him.

"What about my pool table?" She placed her hands on her hips and considered.

"Well, we could get a carpenter to close in the back porch. I think that's big enough." Before Sam could answer, the front doorbell rang.

"There's the committee. Is there anything else, or do you want to stay and help plan the…?"

"No, I don't want to sit with a bunch of old biddies and drink tea and eat cookies. I'm going to my room, where there's half a bottle of bourbon, to contemplate what I have done to deserve all this."

He turned and stalked out. And Mercedes hurried to meet her guests.

* * *

Carmen had already shown them into the front hall.

"Good morning everyone, so good of you to come," she greeted. Mrs. Bottoms looked around and stated,

"Goodness, you've done wonders with this place. This is indeed a fine hotel." Reverend Lovejoy looked about approvingly.

"The town will be forever grateful, Miss Jones."

"Some aren't," she said, imagining Sam sulking in his room. "Let's go back to the new morning room," she said, gesturing for the others to follow her.

* * *

The ladies oohed and aahed all the way to the back of the house. Mrs. Pugsley said,

"It's a real mansion. Too bad it can't be a private residence." Mercedes smiled and ushered the ladies to sit.

"That would be a dream. But it would take an enormous amount of money, to keep it up, so it'll have to stay a hotel, I'm afraid."

"Well, it's a plus for the community," Mrs. Bottoms said. And then, "We need more women in Nacogdoches like you, Miss Jones." Mercedes felt herself flush.

"I'm bringing a little etiquette and a little respectability to these Texas male rascals," she said.

"Speaking of rascals," Mrs. Bottoms said, looking around. "Isn't Mr. Evans joining us this morning?"

"I'm afraid he's…indisposed."

The ladies all looked disappointed and Mercedes rolled her eyes.

* * *

Carmen entered then, with a tray of tea and cookies.

"What did Mr. Sam say, when he saw his pool room?"

"What?" asked one of the ladies.

"Uh…we'll talk about that later," Mercedes said.

"Couldn't have been good. I heard him yelling from all the way in the kitchen," Carmen said, serving. Mercedes gave her a stern look and she left.

"Now, ladies, I'll pour."

Yes, it was a lovely morning room. After Sam had some time to think it over, she was sure, he'd see it her way.

* * *

The committee talked for almost two hours.

When they broke up, it was decided, that there would be a parade, and fireworks would be launched from the lawns of the Texas Lily. There will also be a parade, of little children riding ponies and of course, the fort band would march.

* * *

As Mercedes helped Carmen to clear the things away, she giggled to herself, recalling some of the conversation that took place at the committee meeting.

_ "Those cowboys and soldiers get silly after a few drinks. They start harassing the ladies and lay all about the streets," Mrs. Bottoms said._

_ "Then, we'll see they don't get much liquor to drink, but give them lemonade," Mercedes offered. _

_"That'll upset them," Mrs. Darlington said. _

_"Well, it's about time we brought a little order to this town," Mrs. Pugsley said. And then, "Some of them got drunk and rode horses into stores and places of business, last year." _

_"Not this year," Mercedes firmly said._

_ "Uh…Miss Jones," the reverend said, setting his cup down. "Mr. Evans was one of those, who rode a horse into the railroad depot, last year." _

_"Worse yet, that goat got into a barrel of beer and was so drunk, it crashed through the window at our newspaper," Mrs. O'Neal added. _

_"Well, it's time for the good ladies of Nacogdoches to take control, if this is ever going to be a peaceful, law-abiding town. The trouble with these men, is that they need strong-minded women to civilize them," Mercedes stated. _

_The ladies all said, "Amen!"_

* * *

**Nuff said. But yeah, Mercedes is driving Sam crazy and you just gotta love Carmen. **


	27. Chapter 27

**Thank you for your continued kind support. You guys are on the ball with this one, but I won't say anymore.**

** A special shout out to SamcedesOPT, thank you and welcome. **

**This is a super long chapter. I had to do so much rewriting with this one...I hope it makes sense. **

**Normally I won't bash another person's work, but the book leaves much to be desired. I'm sorry if I've caused any offense, but I'm just being honest.**

** I believe some of you will have mixed feelings about Sam, in this one...**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

Carmen returned from taking items to the kitchen and found Mercedes smiling to herself. She watched her for a few seconds and then politely asked,

"Miss, I gather your meeting went well?"

"Yes, it did, Carmen. The only drawback, was the call Reverend Lovejoy got, about more nosy politicians coming. It seems as though they want to close the fort."

"Major Bottoms won't like that."

"I know...the fort is one of the town's biggest attractions. Many people come to see it and tour it. It would put a dent in the town's coffers if they closed it."

"Mr. Sam will know what to do. He's on the town council and he's a leader among the men."

"Okay. I'll tell Mr. Evans about it. I imagine he'll want the mayor to call a meeting."

"When are they comin'?"

"July fourth," Mercedes said.

"That'll be here in no time. Looks like our little town is doomed."

"Not if Sam and I have anything to say about it," Mercedes declared. Carmen smiled to herself.

"Miss, as an _engaged_ woman, don't you think it would be more proper, for you to rely on your fiancé?"

"What?"

Mercedes had completely forgotten about Buford.

She was ashamed, when she realized that and even more ashamed, she didn't have much confidence in his abilities.

"Oh, yes, of course, Carmen. You should spread word about the politicians…obviously, we can't have another raid…we've already done that…"

"Agreed. Those politicians can be mighty stupid, but I don't think they would fall for that again. We need to come up with something entirely different."

"That's true."

What about the July Fourth celebration?" Carmen asked. Mercedes shook her head.

"Somehow, it doesn't seem very important, now." Carmen frowned.

"Celebrations are always important to southerners, 'specially if there's plenty of beer."

"I gathered that. Maybe the local newspaper can get out a special edition, but in the meantime, the town council has some decisions to make."

"We'll all be waitin' to hear," Carmen said, and strode out of the kitchen.

Mercedes watched her go.

'_This is a terrible mess. And just when the Lily is making a profit,'_ she thought.

* * *

She marched to Sam's room and knocked on the door.

"If it's time for lunch, I think I may drink mine, thank you very much," he shouted.

"Mr. Evans, come out here. This is serious..."

"What is it? Are you ladies stymied, on whether to serve sugar cookies, or gingersnaps, at the fourth of July celebrations?"

Mercedes decided she'd had enough.

She opened the door and marched in.

"We need to talk," she sternly said.

"About my pool table?" He frowned at her and leaned against the bedpost.

"Forget the pool table," she ordered. "We've got a serious problem."

"Don't I know it?" He complained. "Pink velvet and little ribbony doo-dads, are in my pool room."

From the front of the house, they heard Carmen ringing the bell for lunch, and the chatter of the two girls, as they came down the stairs, to serve.

"Sam, the reverend got a call a little while ago…more politicians are coming to town…I'm sure the mayor has heard, too."

"What?" His mouth dropped opened. She nodded.

"It's true. They'll be here July fourth. Apparently, the Congressional Budget Committee, still hasn't decided whether to close the fort or not. It seems, they're leaning towards closing it, though."

Sam swore under his breath.

"You know how many jobs are at stake here? And how much that would hurt our town's economy? The town might as well roll up its sidewalks and close down. The Lily won't survive either...as a whorehouse, or a hotel."

Mercedes winced at the word.

"And after we've worked so hard. I imagine the mayor will call a meeting. We're hoping you would have some fresh ideas."

"Me?" he asked, touching his chest. "Lady, you've destroyed my saloon, re-done my pool room without asking, and now you want me to come up with a bright idea? Why don't you ask your darlin' lieutenant?"

"He hasn't got anything at stake here?" He grinned at her.

"Sure, he does, sweets…just as soon, as he owns your half of the Texas Lily." Mercedes felt like slapping him.

"Damn you. I don't know why I bothered," she said. Enraged, she turned and marched out of his room.

* * *

Sam watched her go with mixed feelings.

He couldn't control her, and he couldn't seduce her.

He'd never met a woman like her. She was beginning to occupy his every waking thought. And that was driving him crazy.

Something had to happen, and soon.

* * *

The next night after dinner, the town council and many concerned townspeople, met in the dining room of the Texas Lily.

Mayor Pugsley, read the email aloud and looked around at the circle of anxious faces.

"That's the scope of it, folks. They are coming in on a train, the morning of the Fourth." Will scowled and ran his hand through his thick hair.

"Don't these people have things to do in Washington?"

"Not if they can find something better to do, especially if it involves a free trip and fun," Sam said. The major chewed his bottom lip.

"We can't do what we did last time, that's for sure."

"I know," Sam said. He frowned and looked at Mercedes, who shrugged and said,

"It's against my principles, to be involved in this duplicity." Everyone looked at each other in puzzlement and a few looked to Sam.

"Say what?" Pug asked.

"Miss Jones talks proper English," Sam said and frowned at her. "I'll boil it down to Texan. She won't help stack a deck, even if it's to save the pot, if she thinks it's crooked. All she's willing to do, is feed and entertain the politicians all day and see that they get to the parade," he finished.

Will lit a pipe.

Mercedes scowled at him and Sam said,

"Smoking is only allowed in the gentleman's lounge…my office, unless you want Mercedes here, running around spraying you, with whatever that is, she uses."

Mercedes rolled her eyes at him.

If it wasn't un-ladylike, she would've walked over to him and slap him around his blonde head.

However, Will went to the window and knocked the ashes from his pipe, while the other ladies nodded approvingly.

Sam sighed.

Mercedes was a very bad influence on the other women. If she kept this up, they would all ban smoking and drinking and anything else, men did for fun.

He frowned, thinking of lace doilies under vases, coasters under every wet glass, and his hallowed pool room, turned into a morning room.

* * *

"So, what can we do now, to show the politicians how important the fort is to us?" Will asked. Dimples scratched his dimpled chin.

"Maybe we could tell them the local ranchers depend on the fort, as a market for their beef." Sam snorted.

"Do you really think some Yankee politician, is gonna care about the income of a bunch of southern ranchers?"

"He has a point," Mercedes said. She loathed the idea of giving him credit.

"Isn't there any other kind of trouble, that the local police might need the army to assist them with?" she asked.

"Well, there's the Saturday night bar fights," Will said with a nostalgic sigh. And then, "Or used to be, before the Lily got so civilized. The Bucket is too small for such ruckus."

"Maybe we could try to use intellect and reason with them," she offered. Sam threw his head back and laughed.

"Intellect and reason? Please, Mercy, we're talkin' about politicians. They're just taking an amusing trip, at the taxpayer's expense. They don't give a rat's…" he paused and looked around at the assembled ladies. "They don't care whether our fort closes or not," he finished.

Everyone nodded in agreement. The major asked,

"Is the town gonna be full of cowboys that day?" Sam scowled at him.

"Ain't it always, Gilbert? You think the cowboys is gonna miss free food, beer and a big dance? There'll be twice as many, as there was last time."

"Oh my," Mercedes said. Sam looked at her.

"What?"

"I don't think the cowboys and the soldiers get along very well," she said.

"That ain't news to anyone," Sam snapped. "It's one of the reasons we try to keep them apart, when they're gathering in town, at the same time."

Mercedes chewed her lip.

"Have they ever gotten into a huge brawl?"

"Between us and the sheriff's office, we do our best to avoid that. They'd tear the place down, if they ever got started," the major said. Sam smiled at her.

"That's it. It's the perfect idea. Suppose we plan a big fight between the two sides?"

"That is not _your_ idea. It's mine," Mercedes started. "But like most men, you always take the credit." Sam ignored her, warming up to the idea.

"We could stage a big fight that evening, just before it's time for the train to leave. The cowboys would get a fake brawl going and the soldiers could save the town from being torn apart…with the help and permission of the sheriff, of course. Then the politicians would see how much we need the fort."

"Maybe the band could play…" the major began. And someone in the back groaned. But Sam hurried on,

"Good idea, Major. We could have the politicians sitting on the Lily's big front porch, listening to a concert…everybody would be there." Will snorted.

"I ain't sure, I'm up for that kind of sacrifice," he said.

"Oh, come on Will. They wouldn't have to play very long. The cowboys would object and star a ruckus," Sam assured and then, "We could start a big brawl out on the Lily's front lawn, with everybody throwing punches and shooting."

"Need I remind you," Mercedes said primly. "The last time there was shooting, you got shot?"

"I didn't forget. Ruined a new pair of boots, too. But this time I'll be more careful."

"This plan is full of clever deceits and fistfights. I like it," Will said.

"Spoken like a true lawyer," Sam said.

"Suppose it gets out of hand and someone gets hurt?" Mercedes protested.

"Women!" Sam said. And then, "Mayor, are we ready to vote on this?"

Mayor Pugsley nodded, and called for a show of hands.

The ladies all shook their heads, but the men all voted yes.

"Done!" Sam exclaimed with approval. "We'll talk more later, but for now, let's get the word out, about what we're gonna do, to save the fort."

"There has to be a better way, an honest way," Mercedes protested.

"Mercy," Sam started, as if speaking to a child. "We are talking about politicians here. 'Honest' in not in their vocabulary. We aren't about to let Nacogdoches die without a fight."

"Hear! Hear!" the men shouted.

"Now that, that's decided, we'll all adjourn to the lounge for a drink," Sam said.

"We're all for that," one man said, and the others cheered.

* * *

As the men began to leave the room, Mercedes smiled at the ladies and said,

"Ladies, Carmen has some tea and cookies ready, we can adjourn to the morning room and have them there."

"What the hell is a morning room?" Old Doc Millar asked. Sam frowned.

"It was the pool room."

"Where's the pool table?" Will asked.

"Don't ask," Sam said.

Mercedes ignored him and led the ladies to the back of the house, where they sipped tea and complimented her again, on the decorating.

* * *

Later, the two partners showed their guests out.

The crowd stayed on the front porch, for a few minutes more, chatting, and then dispersed.

As the others got into their vehicles and left, Sam said,

"I can just picture it now. The politicians will have a great view of the staged fight…"

"This is so crooked," Mercedes scolded.

"Maybe it's a bit shady," Sam conceded, as the two turned to go inside. "I had forgotten how honest you are. You make me ashamed of myself," he finished.

"Really?"

"Well, okay…maybe not really…but I've got room to change and grow," he admitted.

"I should've known," she griped. She looked around the big empty room. "We got two new guests today…came in from up north. If we keep growing, we'll soon be one of the best-known small hotels in Texas."

"Lady, I used to do very well, by just dealing poker. Now, you're trying to turn me into an upstanding citizen." She looked up at him.

"You might get some respect."

"Mercy, I've been buying respect with my fists and poker playing, all my life. It was the best a poor redneck boy could do."

He looked around, there was really no one else in sight. As if reading his mind, Mercedes said,

"Carmen and the girls must have retired to their rooms…the guests, too." Sam smiled at her.

"Then, how about a glass of champagne to celebrate saving the fort?" She eyed him suspiciously.

"You Texans think, you've got to have liquor, to celebrate everything. In the first place, I don't drink, as you very well know. And secondly, we haven't saved it yet."

"Oh, but we will." He grinned, as he went behind the bar and picked up a bottle, popping the cork. It spewed across the counter and the floor.

"Could you be a little more tidier?" she asked, frowning at him.

"And could you be a little less cross and strait-laced?" He poured two glasses of champagne.

* * *

'_Tonight…I think tonight is the night, to seduce the very proper Miss Jones. And if she refuses to sell out again, I will threaten to tell her very proper fiancé.' _

The idea was so rotten and underhanded, he felt like a rat.

_'Get over it, Sam. It's a dog-eat-dog world and only the strong survive,' _he told himself.

"Here, Mercy," he said offering her a glass. "I told you I was sorry, for the way things have gone, since you arrived and I'm telling you again. Don't you think I deserve a second chance?"

"My mother didn't believe in second chances. She believed a person should do the right thing the first time."

"Most of us need a second chance, every now and then. Remember, never judge a man 'til you've walked a mile in his boots," he said, smiling at her.

* * *

Mercedes wavered.

He was so handsome and so charming.

"I…I suppose I could have just a sip."

She looked around again.

The house was quiet, the lights dim. Everyone, including the guests, was in bed, probably asleep.

Sam smiled again, picking up the bottle and placing the two glasses on a tray.

"Good. Now let's find a comfortable place to sip our drinks and talk."

"How about the swing out on the lawn?" she offered. He shook his head.

"Too squeaky."

"Huh?"

"I meant, Sherwin would end up with his head in our laps, or munching on your nice skirt. What about that lovely morning room you just decorated?"

Mercedes stared at him.

"I thought you were furious about that?"

_'Did he just grit his teeth?' _

"Uh…no, Miss Jones. I'll admit, that when I first saw it, I might have been a tad upset."

"A tad?" she snorted. "As you Texans would say, you looked madder than a bee-stung bobcat."

"Oh…but I've decided, I was wrong. The room is lovely, and who cares if my fine old pool table gets rained on, out in that leaky old barn? Certainly not me."

"Not I," she corrected without thinking. Sam took a deep breath, and she would have sworn, she saw his hand shook.

"I'm so pleased you're correcting my bad grammar. Now, let's go sit back there and have our drinks, shall we?"

He took the bottle and tray of glasses and started down the hall. She followed him.

"Mr. Evans, to my credit, I have spoken to a carpenter, about closing in the back porch, so you can invite your friends out there, to shoot pool."

"Wonderful," he said. "I can't thank you enough. I see you took down my deer head that was hung in the back hall."

"It looked too violent."

"Mercy, most Texans are violent. Huntin' is part of the Constitution, along with drinking and gambling."

"I don't think that's in the Constitution."

"The _Texas_ Constitution," he said over his shoulder.

"I doubt that, too."

Mercedes breathed a sigh of relief, as she followed him into the morning room and turned on the light. She was so glad he wasn't upset anymore.

* * *

She went to hit another switch and he said,

"Don't bother. We won't be here long."

"That's right," she agreed.

She sat on the big pink sofa, as he set the tray on the table next to it. Then he sat down next to her.

She scooted a little to one side, wishing he had chosen another chair, until she hit the sofa arm.

He didn't seem to notice.

He handed her a glass and picked up the other one, holding it out.

"Here's to the success, of the Texas Lily Hotel and our partnership."

She held her glass up and nodded, while he made his toast. The glass held a lot more champagne, than she'd asked for, but she didn't want to be rude. She sipped it slowly.

* * *

"What's the matter? Isn't it a good year?" He was sitting so close to her, that it made her nervous.

"Uh…Mr. Evans, I wouldn't know a good year, from a bad one. I told you I don't drink."

"Well, a high-class hotel, generally serves champagne to its guests and they'll expect you to know. Suppose the governor of Texas came to stay and we served him inferior champagne?"

"Be serious. I daresay most Texans, even the governor, wouldn't know champagne from branch water. They don't seem to drink anything, but bad whiskey and cheap beer."

She tasted the drink again. The little bubbles went up her nose and tickled her.

She felt wild and daring.

What would her stern, strait-laced mother say, about her sitting in an almost darkened room, drinking with a gambler, who has a reputation with the ladies, and who almost had her buck naked under a tree?

Sam sighed and sipped his drink. He put his arm across the back of the sofa.

_'Did he move closer? Or did I imagine that?' _Mercedes thought. She sipped her drink again. It tasted pretty good to her and she gulped the rest.

Immediately, Sam reached to take her glass. Their hands touched and she could have sworn she received a mild shock. The feeling danced across her fingers and up her arms, leaving her feeling tingly all over.

* * *

Sam refilled both their glasses.

"The rest of this will go flat, if we don't finish it tonight. There's no sense in saving it…and it's a very fine year, too," he said.

Mercedes didn't know if he was lying or not. She felt very light-hearted. She sipped her second glass of champagne and said,

"Well, my mother always said, it was a shame and sin, to waste anything."

"Ain't it the truth?" He grinned at her and held his glass up in another toast. She felt giddy and mellow enough, not to correct his grammar.

"I've been meaning to speak to you, about what happened in the woods, the other day…"

"Oh, dear lady," he started. He put his glass down and took her hand, looking earnestly into her eyes. "I owe you a thousand apologies. It was just that, you looked so beautiful…I was wept away…and I forgot my manners. Please forgive me."

* * *

Mercedes was taken aback, in her partially inebriated state.

That was just, what the hero in one of the romantic novels she loved, would have said. She sipped her drink and felt more kinder towards him.

"Mr. Evans, you are forgiven. I'm sorry about the perfume."

"I can still smell it."

He closed his eyes, as if imagining. And in Mercedes' mind, his face was close to her breasts, breathing in the scent…his breath warm on her skin...

"Anyway, thank you for your forgiveness." He kissed the hand he still held. "And please, call me Sam. Would you like some more champagne?"

She giggled, and that shocked her.

"I…I don't think so. I'm feeling a bit unconventional and foolish. I think I've had enough." He gently squeezed her hand.

"I'll tell you, when you've had enough. Do you think I would lie to you?"

Her thinking was a bit fuzzy, as he poured them each, another drink. He had lied to her plenty…hadn't he? Yet, he looked so charming, as he scooted closer to her.

"I…I think I need to go to bed now." She tried to stand up and nearly fell.

"Careful there," he said and reached out to catch her hand. But somehow, when she staggered and sat back down, she was almost in his lap.

"Okay?" he asked and she nodded. "Now, let's toast to the success of our mission."

Mercedes giggled like a schoolgirl, as she held up her glass and clinked it with Sam's.

"Haven't we already done that?" she asked.

"Have we?" He was so close to her, she could feel his warm breath squarely on her face. "Doesn't matter. To our success. Drink up!" She did, as she was told.

"You know, that's tasty. Maybe I should have a tad more, if I'm going to learn about champagne."

She drained her glass and he filled it again. She seemed to be having a difficult time, focusing her eyes. She leaned closer to him and looked up at him.

"Mr. Evans…"

"Sam," he corrected, taking her free hand and kissing it.

"Sam," she said, sipping her drink. "About the other day…"

"I told you how sorry I was."

He looked down into her eyes and she realized, just how gorgeous he was. He looked like an innocent schoolboy, with his hair falling across his forehead, almost into his green eyes.

* * *

Who was she kidding? Sam Evans had probably seduced his grade school teacher.

"I know. I…I just...want to make sure, you never tell my fiancé about that day. I doubt he would understand."

"My sweet Mercy, you have my word, as a gentleman. My lips are sealed."

He made the classic locking motion, with his fingers and she giggled, then drained her glass. He took it from her hand and set it on the table.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"You. I don't think I've ever thought of you as a gentleman."

Now, he took both her hands in his.

His felt big, warm and powerful, almost covering her smaller ones. He kissed both her hands, leaning closer.

"I forgot myself in the woods that day. You were so beautiful and desirable. Lieutenant Fortenbury is a lucky man."

"Buford," she said without enthusiasm.

"Ah, yes, Buford. Such a fine officer. But since we're business partners, what goes on between us, doesn't concern him."

All of this, he said with a smile.

Mercedes was trying to follow his logic, but her mind was too fuzzy and he was so close.

She looked up at him, attempting to focus her eyes.

"It doesn't?"

"No, my dear, it doesn't. Just forget, that I thought you were so desirable, I couldn't resist kissing you."

* * *

Before she realized what he was about to do, he took her in his arms and kissed her. And she let him. Not only let him, but put her arms around his neck and kissed him back willingly.

His tongue brushed along the seam of her lips, begging her to open them, and she did, tilting her head in surrender, as his tongue teased the edges of her mouth and then caressed inside.

* * *

Mercedes melted into the kiss, as his tongue continued to explore the length and breadth of her mouth.

"Sweet…so sweet," he whispered.

Somewhere in her foggy mind, she wondered, if she should be doing this. It wasn't proper. Or was it, since he was her business partner?

She couldn't seem to remember anything absolute, when she was around this sexy rascal.

She kept her eyes closed, as his warm soft lips kissed her eyelids and her cheeks.

She felt his hot breath on her skin, as his mouth moved down her throat.

Her pulse raced and her heart pounded like a hammer in her chest, but she didn't pull away.

He was big, strong and virile, yet he held her in a tender embrace.

"Mercy," he whispered. "My dear, sweet Mercy. You are so pretty."

No one in her strict, mundane life, had ever called her pretty. Her mother had reminded her time and again, that beautiful women, were liable to fall victim to men's lust and passion.

Mercedes had never even been sure, what lust was, but now, she knew about passion.

* * *

"Sam," she gasped. "I don't think…"

"Don't think, Mercy," he whispered against her throat.

She kept her eyes closed, but felt him fumbling with the hem of her shirt.

His breath was warm on her throat, as he kissed across her collarbone.

She opened her eyes, to look into his pretty green ones, that were a few shades darker now.

His face was just brushing the swell of her bountiful breasts, when one of his hands reached behind her, to unclasp her bra.

In the dim light, she looked from her exposed breasts to his handsome face. He was breathing hard and his eyes were intense with desire.

She took his face between her small hands and kissed him.

* * *

Sam groaned aloud and his hot mouth left her lips, and went right to her stiff nipples.

Now, it was her turn to moan and groan.

She arched her back, offering him the feast of her breasts and he accepted, ravaging them.

* * *

Sam couldn't seem to get enough of them, as he licked and caressed them generously.

By now, Mercedes' lower body, felt as if it was on fire, a burning which began in her tummy and was now spreading lower.

One of his hands landed on her thigh and she trembled, wanting more from him. She wanted to feel his hand on her bare skin.

"Mercy?" he gasped.

"Y-yes, Sam…don't…don't stop."

She didn't care about right or wrong, or what Buford would think, or anything else, but this moment and this man.

She felt his hand moving under her skirt, pushing it up, but he stopped and slowly pulled it down and off her.

He gently tapped her legs and made a lifting motion. She complied and lifted her lower half and he placed the skirt beneath her.

He then, gently pressed her back, so that she was laying on the pink sofa.

He moved to lay on her, shifting her legs to make himself comfortable between them and the minute he did, he felt like this is where he'd belonged.

His hips took on a life of their own, grinding against her damp, but warm heat.

His long fingers stroked her thigh and he shifted, bringing his hand up to her underwear, where he rubbed and stroked her into a frenzy.

* * *

The minute his fingers went under her panties and touched her quivering flesh, she groaned loudly and started to tremble.

The trembling increased, when he slipped one finger into her heated core, even as he reached to kiss her again.

"Oh…oh…my…Sam…" she cried out. She was breathing hard through her mouth, when she felt him fumbling again, this time with the zip on his jeans.

Was she out of her mind?

This was totally unacceptable behavior, for an engaged, respectable lady, but she couldn't care less, because she wanted more.

* * *

She lifted her leg, giving him access, to stroke the depths of her heated womanhood, but he pulled back to hold her face and look deeply into her eyes, and softly say,

"Mercy, tonight I'm going to make a woman of you."

Mercedes knew, she should immediately get up and leave. She knew, she should be saving her virginity for her groom to be…

_'__What was his name? That prissy officer from Philadelphia…Buford What's-his-name…'_

But, right now, the man she wanted to give it to, was this wild and worthless rogue, who was seriously wreaking havoc with her emotions.

* * *

"Sam…I…I think I love you," she said.

Sam tensed.

He wasn't sure how to respond. Was she serious? What was he to do? He couldn't possibly say it back…could he?

He was so conflicted, but he desperately wanted her.

"Sure," he murmured.

He snapped her panties and slowly guided himself to her entrance and she tensed.

"No," he whispered. "Relax, it will be easier."

He kissed her softly, lingering, as strange emotions arose. He closed his eyes, trying to block them out, and for a moment, it seemed as though it had worked.

He claimed her lips again, tasting deeply and she allowed him, by completely surrendering.

"God…you're so wet…and I've never wanted a woman, as much as I want you right now," he mumbled against her lips.

* * *

Her breath hitched at the rawness in his tone, and she realized, she desired him, as much as he did her.

She reached up and pulled him down to her, and he carefully entered her.

For a split second, Mercedes felt good, but as his rigid member pushed against her barrier, and broke through, slipping all the way to the hilt, she gasped and hot tears spilled unchecked, from her eyes.

Immediately, Sam's lips covered hers, forcing his tongue deeply into her throat, as one of his hands softly kneaded her breast.

He swallowed her cries, as he continued to kiss her deeply.

For a moment, he broke the kiss to whisper sweet words to her and after a while, the pain lessened to a dull ache.

* * *

His hands continued to gently knead her breast and suddenly, she needed his full lips on them.

"More," she whispered, and his eyes grew darker still.

His first movements were slow and calculated, but as she pulled him closer, he began to ride her.

New, heady feelings enveloped Mercedes and she wanted more, still.

Sam obliged.

He went deeper and faster, until the pink sofa started to make a dull, thudding noise.

Still Mercedes' need grew and his actions sped up, as he rode her, driving into her, like a hard, steel rod…bare flesh slapping against bare flesh, until she gasped and gripped him like a vise, whispering his name, over and over again.

* * *

Just when Mercedes thought she couldn't take anymore, her emotions rose, like a great crashing crescendo of passion. She clung to him, while she bucked under him.

Her pulse roared in her ears, and like a tidal wave crashing over her, she released, gasping and catching for breath, with the only audible sound of,

"Sam…Sam…" escaping her lips.

* * *

At that, she felt his movements increase, in speed and in depth and a familiar feeling reared it's head, again.

What was he doing to her? How was it possible?

She didn't know the answers to these questions, as she was swept away, with ecstasy once again and she no longer knew where she was, or what was happening, except that she didn't want it to end.

* * *

Sam, on the other hand, was completely lost in a sea of bliss.

He's never had it this good before.

As Mercedes unraveled a second time, beneath him, it took everything within him, not to let go and fall with her.

He felt so good, he wanted to stay there forever.

But he couldn't.

He placed one hand under her bum, lifting it at an angle and drove into her, feeling her sweet spot clenching and drawing him.

And he knew he wasn't going to last.

His movements turned erratic and after a few minutes, he stiffened and groaned, emptying his hot seed, deeply into her.

For hours, or centuries, or maybe only a few minutes, they clung to each other, locked in the external embrace of desire.

For Mercedes, she was drunk and in love, smiling sleepily. Then she sighed, relaxed and knew no more.

* * *

Sam finally released her bum, knowing there would be marks there, but it couldn't be helped.

He rose up on his elbows, feeling hot and felt a sheen of sweat all over his muscular body.

God, he's never had an experience like this before.

Mercedes was some woman.

"Mercy," he whispered. No answer.

"Mercy?" She was out cold.

He looked down into her serene face, soft and pretty in the dim light.

What had he done?

He had deliberately gotten an innocent woman drunk and seduced her.

That was a new low, even for him.

_'Rotten bastard…fuck!' _he cursed himself.

But he couldn't have stopped, even if there was a gun to his head, he had wanted her that badly.

He ran his hand through his damp hair, pondering his next move.

* * *

**Wow! I don't know whether to be mad at Sam or not. I look forward to hearing from you guys. Much love to you.**


	28. Chapter 28

**Thank you for your continued support. **

**So, as I said, there were mixed feelings about Sam in the last chapter. I too, was torn, but if we read between the lines, Sam is wholeheartedly in love with Mercedes and she is with him.**

**He did go about things the wrong way, but I will do my best to make him repentant. **

**He's still a bit heavy-handed at the start of this chapter, but it's different and mild, compared to how the book has the character he's based off, written. **

**Again, I had to change it up so much, it's going in a slightly different direction. Thank you for sticking with me.**

**Shout out to my guest reviewers, and to shamelesswalkinthronesfan85, thank you for giving the story a try. To everyone else, THANK YOU.**

**Standard disclaimer**

* * *

Sam sat staring down into Mercedes' sleeping face, trying to rein in his emotions.

He had accomplished what he'd planned to do. So why did he not feel triumphant, or pleased with himself?

_'Because I lo…' _

He caught himself and shook his thoughts out.

"Since when are you developing feelings, or a conscience?" He muttered to himself.

Just then, Mercedes let out a delicate, snore, almost ladylike and he smiled.

She seemed so human now and still so innocent. He couldn't leave her here, for Carmen, or one of the girls to find in the morning.

He carefully swung her into his arms and very quietly, he went down the hall and up the stairs to her room.

He laid her on her bed, re-dressed her and pulled the sheet up over her.

There wasn't anything he could do about her underwear, they were ruined. However, he folded them and put them into his pocket.

Before he left, he leaned over, brushed her hair from her forehead and softly kissed her lips.

She smiled in her sleep and for a moment, he wondered what she was dreaming about.

"Sweet dreams, darlin'," he whispered.

He turned out her lights, looked her way once more and left.

* * *

With a dejected look on his face, he entered his room and threw himself across his bed. Sleep wouldn't come easy tonight.

In his mind, he'd made love to Mercedes, over and over, and remembered it was the best he's ever had. But in reality, he'd taken her virginity…done something terrible he could not undo, and she would hate him in the morning.

His thoughts were so conflicted.

Although he'd done the unthinkable, this wasn't like with other women.

With those women, there were no feelings involved, there were a classic hit and run. But with Mercedes, she was special.

He didn't want to admit it, but he knew it. Knew it the day he met her.

He scolded himself audibly and internally.

_'She shouldn't have been so naïve…Oh, can it Evans! You're at fault here, not her,' _his thoughts screamed at him.

He tossed and turned for hours and finally, towards dawn, he drifted off into a troubled sleep.

* * *

Mercedes awoke with the first rays of dawn, making light patterns on her bedroom wall.

She sat up and groaned aloud.

Her head hurt. It felt like a train was rushing through her brain.

She looked at herself, realizing her clothing was in disarray. Why wasn't she wearing a nightgown?

She searched her memory and gasped.

It told of Sam Evans, the bottle of champagne and his kisses.

Besides the first kiss, she couldn't remember much, except wanting more, from him.

But how had she ended up in her bed? Maybe she had gotten up and walked out of the morning room, before things could have gotten any further. Looking at her wrinkled clothes, she didn't think so.

When she stood up, her head hurt even more, and her nether regions were paining like never before, plus, she felt naked under her skirt. Her stomach roiled and hot, fat tears leaked from her eyes, as realization hit.

"I've been such a terrible fool," she wailed.

She leaned on the bedpost for a long moment, fighting to control her emotions. She, who had always been so frosty and reserved with men, had obviously gotten roaring drunk and acted like a trashy tart, with a no-good gambler.

_ 'Why didn't I remember my mother's warning? Because his kisses had tasted so good.' _

What was she to do now? She couldn't bear to face _him_, but she knew she must.

Already, downstairs, she could hear Carmen and the girls, setting the tables and preparing breakfast for their hotel guests. And as hostess, she had responsibilities.

She stumbled to the shower and stared into the mirror there.

Her complexion looked rosy, but her face looked sad, and her lips appeared to be swollen, as if they'd been kissed and kissed.

"Oh my God!" she said and splashed water on her face.

She felt like going back to bed and staying there for the day, or forever. But instead, she took a long bath, combed her hair and put on a nice, flattering yellow strapped dress.

The little bow on the side of the dress, just under her left breast, made it look girly and flirty, but she felt anything but that.

She looked around for the shoes she'd worn the night before and couldn't find them.

"Now, where are they?"

A sudden thought hit her. Had she ended up in Sam's room? Are they under his bed? She imagined Carmen, or one of the girls finding them while cleaning.

"I can't let that happen," she said.

* * *

She went charging down the stairs and looked around, to see if _he _might be at the dining table, so she could sneak into his room. No such luck.

Still bare-footed, she tiptoed down the hall and opened his door as quietly as she could.

He lay sleeping in his bed, still in his clothes. She crept over to peer down at him. He was sleeping with a small smile on his lips.

_'Dirty villain. I should crack you skull open,' _she thought.

She looked around for a vase, or something to hit him with, but found nothing.

She eventually got down on her knees and began to crawl around his bed, looking under it.

"What in God's name are you doing down there?"

Surprised, Mercedes glanced up, to see him sitting up in bed, staring down at her.

"Uh…nothing."

She got to her feet and headed for the door.

_'Maybe he didn't even remember last night,' _she thought, hopefully.

Sam blinked and caught a glimpse of her bare feet, for the first time.

"Morning room."

"What?"

"Your shoes are in the morning room, Mercy."

She wanted to cry and scream and throw things at him, but her mother had taught her, it was both impolite and unwise to show emotion.

Impolite? She was dealing with the biggest rotter in Texas.

"How dare you?" she seethed. "How could you have done such an…?"

"Mercy…" he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Don't you 'Mercy' me, you scoundrel. I can't stop thinking about last night."

"Me either."

She held herself stoically, trying not to break down, in weak impotent tears. She picked up one of his boots and threw it at him, narrowly missing his head.

"Are you crazy? Stop that!" He came off the bed and before she could move, he was across the room and had her by her wrists.

"You…you…there are no words low enough for what you did."

She fought to get away from him, but he held on to her, looking down into her face. She turned her head, so he would not see her tears.

"Come wash you face, Mercy. We can talk about this later. We have hotel guests…this is no time for a fight."

"Fight? I want to kill you. Where's your gun?" she broke free and ran over to his bureau, pulling a drawer out, and it hit the floor with a bang.

He leaned against the bed post and watched her.

"I want to kill me, too. Believe me."

"Where is it?"

"Do you even know how to shoot a pistol?"

"No, but I'm mad enough to learn."

"It's not in there," he calmly said. "Let's go have some coffee and then we'll talk about this."

"I don't want to talk. I want to murder you," she shouted and pulled out another drawer.

"You've changed from the person you were, when you first arrived in Texas. Last night…"

"I don't want to talk about last night, you damned scoundrel."

"I thought you said, ladies don't swear." She whirled on him.

"Have you no shame?"

"None…but when it comes to you, yes, I do." She tried to hold back her tears, as she glared at him, but they were streaming down her face, anyway.

"Mercy," he started gently. "Wipe your eyes and get your shoes, before anyone else find them. We can talk after breakfast." The thought of food made her sick.

"How can you even think about food at a time like this?" she asked.

"Men always think of food," he started, trying to lighten the situation. "It's our second most favorite thought. Now, go find your shoes and at least come to the table for some coffee."

"You are a cad and a rotter," she shouted.

He tried to hold her, as she brushed passed him, but she pulled away and slapped his face, then left.

* * *

Sam rubbed his stinging cheek, wanting to run after her and apologize, but he didn't.

He had won, but at what cost?

"She's right. You are a scamp," he said to himself.

He went into his bathroom and splashed his face with cold water. Then he shaved himself, which was difficult, because he didn't want to look himself in the eye.

He'd never felt bad about bedding a woman before and this one had been the most enjoyable, ever.

But he did her wrong and he could freely admit that.

* * *

Half an hour later, he went to breakfast.

Mercedes sat at the table, with the other guests, nursing a cup of coffee. She didn't look too well, and she didn't look at him.

Sam pasted a smile on his face and sat.

"Morning, all." The guests spoke to him, but Mercedes didn't.

He wondered if she had found her shoes and was tempted to lift the tablecloth and check her little feet. But he decided it was a bad idea.

* * *

The girls bustled about, serving breakfast, as usual.

Mercedes waved them away, when Elaine tried to put a plate of scrambled eggs before her. She just sat and said nothing.

Sam ate, sparingly, his usual appetite had waned.

He chatted politely, with the two guests and the girls, and every now and again, Mercedes raised her eyes and glared at him.

* * *

He pushed back his plate, after a while and said,

"I think I'll go out on the porch and have a cigar. You gentlemen want to join me?"

Both declined.

One had to get ready to catch a flight and the other had business in town.

* * *

Sam went out on the porch and sat down on the creaky swing.

It was going to be a typical first day of July, in Texas…hotter than hell, with the lid off.

He lit a cigar and thought about the mess he'd made.

* * *

Minutes later, Mercedes came out on the porch and stood there.

The tension, was as tight, as a hangman's noose.

Sam couldn't think of what to say to her. Finally, he blurted,

"I see you found your shoes." He berated himself internally, as he put his head in his hands.

_'Could I have sounded any more stupid, or more heartless?' _

"Is that all you have to say to me?" she asked.

"I'm sorry…it was pretty dumb, considering…"

"Are you going to tell everyone in town?"

"Come on Mercy. Do you think I would do that?"

"I think you're an unmitigated bastard, who would do anything to get what you want."

"I think you know me very well. Won't you sit down?" He patted the empty space next to him on the swing.

"No. I don't ever want to get close to you again."

That was a lie and she knew it, she thought with growing horror. Even now, she wanted to sit down on the swing next to him, throw her arms around his neck and let him kiss her breathless.

"You…you must know…I can't let Buford find out about this."

"He won't." She breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm not finished. There is a condition," he said.

"What?"

"Break off your engagement with that idiot. Your taste ain't that bad. Let him go back to Philadelphia." Her face went ashen.

"You dirty, rotten…"

"I know what I am, Mercy. You don't have to tell me."

Mercedes couldn't keep the tears, from overflowing her brown eyes. She had lowered her guard and let him make love to her, now he was even more rotten, than she could have possibly imagined.

"You planned this…to blackmail me." He didn't look at her. He couldn't. His heart hurt and he felt like crying, as he listened to the pain in her voice.

"Yes."

"You no-class Texas scum! I thought there might be something good in you, but you're so low, you could crawl under a snake's belly."

She fought to hold back her sobs.

He kept his eyes to the ground, when he spoke to her. His voice was so soft, she had to strain to hear him.

"I don't want him around you, or the Lily. It's a dog-eat-dog world…only the toughest survive."

"I hate you!"

She turned and ran back into the house, blinded by tears. She raced up the stairs and into her room, closing the door. She couldn't believe she had felt something for this rascal of a gambler.

* * *

Outside, Sam crushed his cigar in his hands, hating himself for what he had done.

He'd never had any scruples before, about how he won…never had any qualms about doing whatever it took to win, but now, he felt a new unfamiliar emotion…_shame_.

* * *

Carmen came out on the porch.

"What's wrong with Miss Mercedes? She brushed passed me and ran up the stairs. Looks like she's been crying."

Sam winced at the thought of Mercedes weeping, because of him. He stood up and tossed the crushed cigar and said,

"Who knows? Tell Josiah to bring the car around. I need to confab with some people, about how we're gonna stage this fight for the politicians."

Carmen nodded and went back inside.

* * *

After a long moment, Sam went inside, too.

He stood at the foot of the stairs, looking up at Mercedes' door. She was up there crying, and it was all his fault.

That prissy Lieutenant Fortenbury didn't seem like the forgiving type. He wouldn't like it, if he knew his fiancée had given her innocence to a gambler. So, of course, Mercedes will knuckle under and get rid of him.

Sam should feel triumphant, but he didn't. He felt rotten.

"It'll take some time, but she'll be alright," he said to himself. He said it, but right now, he wasn't so sure.

* * *

Upstairs, Mercedes washed her face and struggled with her disappointment and the decision she had to make.

She had always been a strong person, who never let her guard down with anyone. Last night, she had and look where it had gotten her.

She had a choice now, back way like a scalded dog, by giving up her half of the Lily to that scoundrel and leaving with Buford, or breaking her engagement to him and staying at the Lily, with that rascal.

If she left with Buford, she'd probably have to tell him. She wasn't sure he loved her enough, to be understanding and forgiving.

But she decided she didn't have to make a choice right now. Sam wouldn't want to create a ruckus, until this trouble with the politicians had passed.

All that was important right now, was saving the fort.

She would avoid Sam Evans, as much as possible, for the next several days.

She squared her shoulders and went downstairs.

* * *

Carmen met her, as she came out of the kitchen and asked,

"You lookin' for Mr. Sam? He went up town. I sent Josiah with the other car, to pick up more guests." Mercedes managed a smile.

"Thank you, Carmen. I don't know what I would do without you."

"Miss Sue used to say the same thing. You alright Miss Mercedes? You don't look so good."

"I…I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," the old woman muttered and returned to the kitchen.

Mercedes sighed.

She had work to do and couldn't worry if her eyes were swollen and red. She could always claim dust or smoke got into them.

* * *

Over the next hour, she supervised getting fresh linens out and getting rooms ready for the new guests.

She even made sure there were clean tablecloths on all the tables.

Josiah returned with five new guests, for her to check in and make comfortable. Then she took the car and went into town, to speak to the ladies about organizing the Fourth of July festival.

* * *

Everyone's biggest worry, was whether the fight between the soldiers and the cowboys would be authentic enough to fool the politicians.

"Honey," Mrs. Bottoms started. "You get both sides liquored up and it'll be authentic enough. There's nothing a Texan likes better than a good fight. Oh, by the way, your lieutenant said, he would come by later tonight."

That wasn't something Mercedes was looking forward to, knowing the gambler intended to tell Buford everything.

* * *

That night at supper, Mercedes got through the meal, by simply ignoring Sam. It was as if he didn't exist.

She made charming small talk with the new guests and Sam seemed to get grumpier and grumpier.

"If you'll excuse me," she started and stood, making all the men scramble to their feet. "I have a gentleman caller coming. Please, take your seats, gentlemen."

She motioned for them to sit back down.

"You can enjoy coffee, or maybe you'd like to have cigars and brandy in our gentlemen's lounge." Sam glowered at her.

"You're going out?" he asked. She flat out ignored him. Carmen came into the room, to pour more coffee.

"Carmen, Lieutenant Fortenbury is taking me for a ride. I may not be back until late," she said haughtily.

"You'd better watch out for your reputation. Young ladies shouldn't stay out too late unchaperoned," Carmen warned with a frown.

Mercedes glared at Sam, although she was speaking to Carmen.

"Don't worry about my reputation."

She sailed out of the room, leaving everyone staring at each other, in puzzlement.

* * *

Once again, Buford had borrowed the major's car and now, as Mercedes went out in the moonlight, he exited and came around to help her in.

He was so wimpy, compared to the gambler, she thought.

She scolded herself internally. She must stop thinking like that and concentrate on Buford's good points, which were… well…of course he had some.

He was respectable and from a fine family.

Then why was it, her mind kept returning to Sam, who was not as respectable and came from a poor white trash family?

In her mind, she was in his arms again, as he kissed and made love to her. She sighed at the memory.

"Are you alright, Miss Jones? You're awfully quiet."

"I…I'm fine," she assured him and struggled to smile and make conversation with him. Which turned out to be difficult, because there didn't seem to be much to talk about, with the prim officer, unless she wanted to discuss the tuba.

"Why don't we pull off the road somewhere and look at the moon?" Buford asked, scooting closer to her.

That meant more of those wet, smacking kisses. She shuddered in distaste.

"You know, Buford, dear, that might put my reputation at risk. Perhaps we shouldn't be alone, until after the wedding."

In the moonlight, she could see the displeasure on his pasty features.

"You don't seem too worried about your reputation, while you're living in a bordello and sharing quarters with that slimy scoundrel."

"Woah! Buford," she said and blinked in surprise. "We're only sharing a building and you know what the situation is. Of course, I could sell out and let him have full ownership of the place…"

"No, no, I wouldn't want you to do that. I think you're a brave independent woman, to take on that rogue and give him tit for tat. It's just that, well, some women find the rascal attractive and I wouldn't want you…"

"I don't find him the least bit attractive," she lied, looking upward, hoping God wasn't listening tonight to her bare-face lie.

"Of course, you don't. You have too much class, Mercedes, to even think about him that way."

"What way?"

"Uh…you know…"

"Certainly not." For a split second she tensed, waiting for the lightning bolt to come out of the clear sky and burn her to s crisp. In her mind, she was back in Sam's arms, sharing a heated passion that she'd never known could happen.

She took a deep breath, remembering the taste of his lips and the way his fingers had felt under her panties, as they stroked and teased…and the sheer ecstasy of her ultimate surrender.

"…then maybe I'd better take you home."

"Uh…what did you say Buford?" She glanced over at him, guilty, that she hadn't heard anything he'd said for the past few minutes. He frowned.

"Honestly Mercedes, are you sure you're alright? You seem so vague and disconnected."

"I…I'm distracted with this thing, the town is trying to pull off, to keep the fort form being closed."

"Oh, that." He snorted and continued, "Frankly, I think I'd be glad if they closed it."

"Why? What about all those people who depend on the fort for a living? What about all the soldiers, like you?"

"Who cares about a bunch of rebel Texans? And what do I care about the other soldiers? They'd probably all get sent to Arizona, to fight spiders, rattlers and any lingering Apaches."

He shuddered visibly.

"But...I do care, that it would impact on the Lily, since we'll own it."

_'We'll own it. Was Sam right about Buford? But then, why would I believe the rascal who seduced me?'_

"Uh…Buford, we'll only own half of it. I think I'm getting a headache. Would you please take me home?"

"Alright."

He glanced towards her, his voice full of sympathy,

"I do hope you're not coming down with something contagious. I have a very delicate constitution and I wouldn't want to catch anything."

"Then, you'd better not get too close to me…it could be something catching."

He scooted back over in his seat, immediately.

When they pulled up at the Lily, he hesitated.

"Do you mind, seeing yourself out? Just in case you're carrying something contagious?"

"Sure." She drew a quick breath of relief and clambered out of the vehicle. "Good night," she called and fled up the steps and into the house.

* * *

Buford watched her flee.

He'd seen her reluctance to his embraces and his kisses.

Once he made her legally his, he'd teach her all about lust. She'd be his wife and she'd have to submit, to anything he wanted her to do. Things that he couldn't even get the whores at the Bucket O' Blood to do.

But to take over, he was going to have to do away with Sam Evans.

He'd been a poor shot the last time, but he'd do better this time. He smiled at the thought and drove away.

* * *

That damned old billy goat, was out in the front lily bed, next to the big bird bath, chomping away.

As the car passed, the goat lifted its head and seemed to glare at him.

"Just you wait, you hunk of meat. When I own this place, the first thing I'm going to do, is plow up these common old lilies and have a big grand opening celebration, of the new Texas Lily. I'll serve you up, as some of that slop, Texans call barbecue."

The goat appeared to understand, because it lowered its head, as if to butt and bleated at him.

* * *

But Buford drove along, his thoughts going to the pin he had given to Mercedes.

_'Maybe I shouldn't have given it to her, considering how I got it…then again…maybe no one would recognize it.' _

He couldn't ever remember seeing Sue Sylvester wearing the pin, when he had been a Texas Lily regular, banging first one whore and then another.

"I wonder if the stories are true, about money being hidden in the house?" he muttered, as he drove along.

Maybe, the gold was hidden in big trunks in the attic, or even in the walls. Once he owned the Lily, he could search for it at his leisure.

* * *

He winced at the memory of that fateful night in April.

"I didn't mean to kill Sue, it was an accident," he mumbled to himself.

He had sneaked in the back way, on the pretext of laying with one of the whores upstairs.

That damned Sam Evans, had forbidden him to come to the Lily, because, he'd caught him cheating at cards.

It had been an exceptionally busy Saturday night, he remembered, with lots of noise and lots of people.

Len was at the piano playing away. The women were laughing and singing, and the poker tables were full.

_As quietly as he could, Buford sneaked up the back stairs. _

_Sue was downstairs, he could see her circulating from table to table, laughing and joking with the patrons._

_ His mind was set on her hidden treasure. Maybe it was in a very ordinary place, like her bureau, or under her bed, he thought. He paused in the hallway outside of her door, looking around. There was no one around. He switched of the light in the hall and went into Sue's room. _

_There was only a dim light in there. He would have a look around for the money and when he came out in the dark hall, no one would notice him, with the light off. _

_His heart was pounding hard. He began to rummage through the drawers of her bureau and the suitcases under her bed. Nothing. _

_He noticed a jewelry box over on her nightstand, so he went over to it and began to search through it. Most of the stuff inside didn't look valuable and he was just about to give up, when his fingers landed on the diamond lily pin. _

_He picked it up and held it up to the dim light and watched it sparkle._

_ "This is exquisite and probably very expensive. I can take it and she'll never know. I can sell it, in one of the other towns for a pretty penny." _

_He slipped it into his pocket, with a smile on his face._

_ His back was turned to the door, and he didn't hear when Sue came in. _

_"What the hell are you doing in my room?" He whirled. Sue Sylvester, dressed in purple, stood in the doorway, staring at him._

_ "I…I was just looking, that's all." _

_"You're a damned liar, and a thief. That's why Sam told you, never to come to the Lily again. I'm gonna call him." _

_"No!" _

_Buford had run at her and grabbed her, putting his hand over her mouth. _

_Sam would beat him up for entering the Lily and for taking her jewelry, so he must not find out. He had to keep her quiet.__ She was tall and strong, for a woman almost fifty years old. _

_The two struggled, as he tried to keep her from calling out. They stumbled out onto the opened balcony, overlooking the big poker room downstairs._

_ The noise and music from downstairs was still loud and no one seemed to notice their struggle in the dark hall. _

_Sue bit the hand that was clasped over her mouth and screamed, as she pulled away from him, losing her balance. _

_She crashed against the balcony rail and it gave way. She screamed once more, as she fell onto the billiard table below. _

_Buford panicked._

_ He hadn't meant for this to happen…he was only trying to keep her quiet. _

_Girls and their half-dressed customers, had run out of adjoining rooms, yelling all types of questions. _

_The noise and the music from downstairs gradually ceased. _

_With the others, Buford tiptoed to the edge of the landing, where the rail had broken away and looked down. Sue had landed on a billiard table, breaking it down._

_ She laid there staring up, with her mouth opened, in that final scream._

_ All of the women started to scream and men gathered around the table, including Sam Evans. _

_With their attention riveted on the dead woman, Buford slipped back down the back stairs and out into the night._

* * *

He smiled now, remembering.

He hadn't found the treasure, but he had gotten away with a fine diamond pin.

Ironic maybe, but now, Sue Sylvester's jewelry, was going to adorn her naïve, old maid niece.

Then all Buford needed to do, was to figure out how to get rid of Sam Evans.

Grinning to himself, at his own cleverness, he headed to the Bucket O' Blood.

He was going to celebrate his bright future, by having a few drinks and buying a night in Quinn's bed.

* * *

**Now, who is the real scoundrel? I can't stand Buford. Only two more chapters left. **


	29. Chapter 29

**Thank you for your continued support. Penultimate chapter, guys. Again, it's a little long. **

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

The fourth of July dawned hot and bright.

Mercedes awoke, nervous about the politicians arriving, in less than two hours.

She dressed in a cute red, white and blue dress, styled her hair in two pony-tails, each tied with blue ribbons, before descending the stairs to breakfast.

The five new guests jumped to their feet, when she appeared.

"Keep your seats gentlemen. I hope you're enjoying your stay."

"Very much so," they heartily assured her. Sam came into the dining room.

"My, don't we look patriotic today," he said.

She ignored his comment, as one of the men rushed, to pull her chair out for her.

Today was very important, for the town and the fort. Everything was riding on the events, that were to take place during the day, especially the staged fight.

She couldn't risk things going wrong, because of petty bickering, with this unscrupulous rascal.

* * *

She nodded to Carmen, who smiled back at her, as she poured coffee.

"Miss Sue would be mighty proud of you, Miss Mercedes. You look as pretty as a songbird in an apple tree."

"Thank you, Carmen." She continued to ignore Sam, as he sat down at the other end of the table. She turned her attention to her guests.

"Now, gentlemen, if you have the time, stay and enjoy our town's festivities. There'll be a parade and a big barbecue…"

"I'll be the one doing the barbecue. Folks say, they look forward to it, every time…" Sam stated. Mercedes frowned at him.

"As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted, after the barbecue, there'll be all sorts of games and activities."

"Poker?" one asked hopefully.

"I was thinking, more along the lines of ring toss, apple bobbing and croquet," she said.

"Oh." The men looked crestfallen.

"Also, the Nacogdoches army band, will be playing patriotic tunes and a few others," she added. Sam groaned aloud and she fixed him in a steely stare.

"After that, there'll be fireworks."

"There sure will be," Sam said under his breath.

Mercedes ignored him again. She tried not to let him tempt her. He was probably hoping to bring things to a head and she still wasn't sure, what she was going to do, about his implied blackmail.

That big calamity could wait until the politicians left town.

* * *

She ate her breakfast hurriedly and stood up, motioning for the men to remain sitting.

"Please stay and enjoy your coffee. I have to drive into town, to pick up some very important visitors." Sam hopped up, grinning.

"I'll drive you, Miss Mercy." She hesitated, not wanting to share a car space with him, but she could hardly cause a fuss, in front of their guests.

"Alright. Let me get my stuff."

She went up the stairs, silently fuming. What was she going to do about him? He'd been a thorn in her side, since the day she met him, affecting her and stirring up feelings, like no other man had ever done before.

She would show him.

She will wear the diamond pin today, announcing to the world, it was an engagement gift, from the prominent lieutenant of the Fortenbury family of Philadelphia.

That was sure to annoy Sam, flaunting her engagement like that, because he seemed to hate the lieutenant with a passion.

She pinned the diamond lily onto her dress, checked her appearance in the mirror and went down the stairs.

* * *

In the distance, she heard the whistle of the incoming train and hustled outside.

Sam was waiting by the car.

"We'll have to hurry," she said.

He helped her into the car and got in next to her, smiling at her.

Suddenly, his expression changed to frozen anger. Mercedes stared at him. What had she done, to put that thunderous look on his handsome face?

"Where did you get that?" he thundered.

"What?"

"Don't toy with me, Mercy. I know that pin." She glanced down and touched it with her fingertips.

"My fiancé gave it to me, as an engagement gift. It has been in his family for generations."

"He's a damned liar! That pin belonged to Sue Sylvester. I should know, I gave it to her for her birthday, the day before she died."

"What?" She pulled away from him, completely unnerved. "I don't believe you. Neither will anyone else. With your reputation, no one would take your word…"

"Mercy, I'm beginning to think Sue's accident, wasn't no accident. But how the hell did that bastard get that brooch."

"How dare you!" she seethed. "I've always known you have no scruples, but to accuse Buford of being a thief and a killer? You have gone too far, Sam Evans."

She was so overwhelmed with indignation, she slapped him hard.

* * *

The train whistled again, coming closer to the station.

Sam looked at her, strapping, muscular, virile and dangerous, as he rubbed his red cheek.

"If a man had done that, I'd have killed him," he snarled at her.

"You don't scare me, you big oaf. Get out of the car, I don't have time for this. I have to pick up the visitors."

"Why don't you believe me, Mercy? About the pin?"

"Why should I?" Her pretty brown eyes welled with tears. "You'd do anything to win and get my half of the Lily, you've made that very clear. Well, you can forget about the blackmail, because, I intend to marry Buford and tell him everything myself. I'm certain he loves me enough, to be understanding. He won't break our engagement because you seduced me."

Sam shook his head, his green eyes still angry.

"He won't stay, you'll lose him anyway, he and his highfalutin' ways and fine family. But hear this, once today is passed, I intend to corner him and find out about this pin."

"Get out of the car, you rascal," she shrieked. "I won't ride with you."

"Fine, I'll ride my horse into town. This isn't the end of this, Mercy."

"You're damned right it isn't."

She swung at him, as he was getting out of the car. He caught her hand and tugged her, catching her by surprise. She fell forwards and into his arms.

She could only stare up at him in shock. He grinned without mirth.

"Go ahead and marry your damned lieutenant, but you'll miss this."

Before she could even process a thought, his lips covered hers. He completely claimed her mouth and for a moment, she forgot everything, but the heat and passion of the man, who was holding her.

The kiss deepened and she found herself clinging to him and wanting more.

The train whistled again, and she jerked away from him and slapped him again.

_'What was I thinking?'_

He grabbed her and kissed her again, even as she struggled. He took his fill, controlling the pace of the kiss, as he explored her mouth in its entirety.

After a while, he pulled back, to look into her eyes.

Both were breathing hard and the intense darkened look in his eyes, told her, he was aroused.

She winced at the red finger marks on the side of his gorgeous face. She did that to him.

"Damn you," he muttered. "No woman has ever made my blood run hot, like you do. You said you were going…then go."

He exited the car and slammed the door.

It took Mercedes a couple minutes to calm herself, before she started the car and drove off.

She chanced a look in the rear view mirror, and he was still standing there, looking after her with a mixed expression of anger and longing.

The man is positively insane, she thought, straightening her dress, as she drove.

She looked towards the station, seeing the train roll in, and she turned her thoughts to it, trying to put Sam Evans out of her mind.

* * *

The whole town was adorned with red, white and blue bunting.

There were lots of people in town, for the July fourth festivities, including cowboys from the surrounding ranches.

Up ahead, she saw the two politicians alighting from the train and both the mayor and the major, stepping forward to meet them.

She pulled in front of Will Shuester's office and parked the car.

* * *

The mayor gave a short speech and formally welcomed the visitors to the town.

Mercedes stepped forwards and after a short introduction, she said,

"Gentlemen, after the parade and entertainment, I'll have one of our employees drive you back to the Texas Lily, to rest and recharge. Later in the evening, we'll have fireworks. I hope you'll enjoy your brief stay here, so much, you'll recommend it to your friends."

One of the men bowed low and kissed her hand, before they were spirited away by the mayor and the town council, to ride to the parade.

* * *

As the army band passed her, Buford paused and blinked at her.

"Mercedes, I thought I told you not to wear that pin around town."

"Well, it's very pretty and it's a gift. I couldn't resist." She wouldn't even dignify that wild accusation of Sam's, by mentioning it. He hesitated.

"It's just a bit much for this hick town, don't you think? You wouldn't want the ladies to be jealous, would you?"

He leaned over and gave her a wet kiss.

She felt as though, she had been licked by a dog. And once again, her mind went back to the taste of Sam's hot, full lips.

She shook her head, to clear her thoughts.

She was puzzled by Buford's attitude, about the pin. Most men would be proud to have their fiancée wear their gift.

"I've got to get into formation, dear. We're a big part of the parade, you know."

"I know," she said and smiled at him.

* * *

From a distance, Sam silently watched Mercedes talking to Buford.

He wasn't sure what was said, but the officer gave her a kiss.

His blood boiled, when he saw that. He wanted to knock the officer from here into next week.

The pin glittered in the sunlight and Sam's curiosity grew.

_'How could he have gotten that pin from Sue?'_ Just then, he was joined by Luke and several other members, of the old Town Beautification Committee. Dimples said,

"You losin' your touch, Sam? Not a lady-killer anymore?"

Sam took a deep breath.

All he had to do, was to tell them about the seduction of Mercedes and they'd believe him. And his reputation would be assured, while hers would be tarnished and snickered at, all over the county.

"Sam?" Luke called. "Didn't you hear us?"

He didn't.

He was thinking about Mercedes.

He really cared about her, in a way he had never cared about another woman. And she not only hated him, she was going to marry his enemy.

"I'm throwing in the towel, boys."

"What?" they asked in unison.

"That ain't like you, Sam," Dimples said.

I know," he said shrugging, and then, "It doesn't matter. The lady has high morals. She can't be seduced, not even by me."

"What?" Will had just joined them. "Sam, you just lost your title."

"I don't even care."

He didn't look at them.

Instead, he turned and looked at Mercedes, talking to Josiah, who stood with Sherwin, hooked up to a little red cart. The cart had _Texas Lily Hotel_ printed in big letters on the side.

The goat had been groomed and wore a red leather harness and red, white and blue ribbons tied to his curled horns.

* * *

The people were lining up for the parade, the army band, Sherwin the goat, cowboys on horses, an old man dressed up as Uncle Sam and some children pushing hoops among others.

Sam made his way through the crowd and stood next to Mercedes.

"Go away," she whispered through clenched teeth. "Or I'll complain to the sheriff, that you're a masher." Sam smiled.

"He happens to be a friend of mine. Did you tell that rotter what I said about the pin?"

"Of course, not." She tried to edge away from him. "This is hardly the time or place…and you're making a very serious accusation. As far as the other thing goes, I'm going to tell him tonight. I won't be blackmailed."

He smiled without mirth, once again.

"I have to hand it to you, Mercy. You've got more guts and character, than I gave you credit for."

"Nobody's got less than you." He flinched, as if she had slapped him again.

"Reckon I deserve that, but I'm not through with Buford yet." Will pushed through the crowd and joined them.

"What are you two in such a serious conversation about? Never mind, it might spoil today's fun. Sam, I've got a new bottle of Irish whiskey in my office. What say we celebrate the Lone Star state's birthday in style?"

"Best offer I've had all day," Sam said and turned away.

"It's not Texas' birthday. It's the birthday of our country," Mercedes said.

"We Texans can celebrate our birthday any time we want. We don't have to wait for a particular day," Will said.

"Hear! Hear!" Sam said, grinning.

There was no reasoning with a southerner, Mercedes thought with disgust, as she watched the two head for Will's office.

* * *

She marched over to join Mrs. Bottoms and the other ladies, who were setting up tables with all sorts of food.

"Hi there, Miss Jones," the major's wife started. "We're hoping to raise enough money, to open a park in town. We've been working on this for a couple years now."

"You know, I've never noticed the town didn't have a park," Mercedes replied.

Mrs. Bottoms giggled.

Behind the booth, under a tree, someone had set up a cold barrel of beer, and there was a line of thirsty cowboys and soldiers waiting.

"Don't Texans ever get enough to drink?" she asked. Mrs. Bottoms shook her head and laughed.

"Child, it maybe the miles and miles of hot, dry plains, but they're always thirsty. Wow! What a lovely pin." All the ladies gathered around to inspect and admire it.

"Thank you. Lieutenant Fortenbury gave it to me," Mercedes modestly said. The ladies were visibly impressed. Mrs. Darlington said,

"He's from a fine old family and I hear, quite wealthy."

"Must be, or he wouldn't be able to give you a gift like that," another one said.

"Now, that charming rascal, Sam Evans, is the one that takes my eye," another said with a nod.

"He's an absolute rascal," Mercedes tossed in. The woman sighed.

"Isn't that, what makes him so attractive to women?"

"I'm sure I wouldn't know," Mercedes answered.

"You ready for tonight, my dear?" the major's wife asked.

"I guess I am. All I'm providing, is the location for the evening's party. The rest of it, is against my principles," Mercedes reminded her.

"I saw you in an intense conversation with Sam. I thought you were engaged to Fortenbury."

"I am. That gambler and I are like fire and kerosene. We don't mix well," she assured the older lady, who smiled and replied,

"Makes a hot fire, though."

"Or an explosion," Mercedes said, trying not to think about the night in the morning room. It was hot fire indeed, as far as she could remember. It was a wonder they hadn't set the pink sofa ablaze.

She tried not to think about the passion, she'd found in his strong arms…none of that was important. What was important, was respectability and a fine family.

Her mother would have been horrified, about her fall from respectability, and she could only be relieved, her stern, cold mother, hadn't live to see this happen.

On the other hand, her mother would have been proud of her engagement to Buford Fortenbury.

* * *

Just then, the parade began. Sam and Will stumbled out of the office.

'_He's probably drunk,'_ she thought with disgust. She frowned, wishing she could push him in the horse trough, out front.

* * *

As the parade assembled, Josiah got in line behind the army band, leading Sherwin and the red wagon.

_'Dear God!' _ she thought, as Sam moved to take the lead rope from him.

It looked as though, he fully intended to walk in the parade. All the men were laughing good naturedly.

She could just strangle him.

He bowed to the crowd and tipped his hat to the ladies. Many of the women were shouting his name and waving their hankies.

Mercedes decided she'd had enough.

She marched out to him and tried to whisper,

"You're making a fool of yourself and the Texas Lily." He looked at her, a little crossed-eyed.

"I seem to have a habit, of making a fool of myself, especially with you."

"If that's an apology, it's not acceptable. You need to apologize to the lieutenant for smearing his name."

"Not even if hell freezes over," he vowed.

"You're impossible."

The parade began and she hurried to get out of the way.

* * *

The band was ahead of the goat cart and she was thankful for that.

At least Buford wouldn't have to witness the idiot.

* * *

The band struck up a song, which set off a chorus of boos from the crowd.

It wasn't much of a parade, Mercedes thought, but at least the men were genial.

She hurried to meet the politicians, to take them to the food booth.

Sam came over, she hoped he wasn't going to embarrass her again.

"Gentlemen, how about some cold beer?" he said. The men's eyes lit up.

"Sounds good."

"Also, when we get back to the Lily, I have a bottle of twenty-year old scotch and a box of fine imported cigars," Sam said. The fatter of the two grinned and said,

"I'm beginning to like this town."

Mercedes just stood there, glaring after Sam, as he hijacked her guests.

* * *

Buford strode up, his pale face red with the heat and the big tuba wrapped around his thin shoulders.

"So, what did you think?" he asked.

"About what?" She was still staring after Sam.

"About my tuba playing, of course."

"Wonderful," she lied. In reality, she couldn't remember how the band had played.

"I thought you were going to take that pin off?"

"Maybe later." He looked a bit annoyed, Mercedes thought.

"Let's get some food," he started, taking off his tuba. "I'll put this in the truck, with the other instruments and then we'll eat." Mercedes smiled at him.

"Buford, you really do look handsome in your uniform." He smiled and his wispy mustache wiggled.

"My mother always says that, too."

* * *

There was a big crowd in the shade, under the trees, and people were lining up, to get something to eat, or heading over to where Sam was barbecuing.

Mercedes fumed, watching him smile and nod to the ladies, as he served them. Some of the women lingered near his booth, flirting with him.

She decided, she would skip the barbecue and eat fried chicken, so she wouldn't have to confront Sam again.

* * *

Buford joined her and began filling his plate.

"You know, I'd like some of that barbecue, but I don't think, I want to have any contact, with that drunken gambler," he said.

_'Is he afraid of Sam?'_ Mercedes sighed.'

"I…I'll get you some, dear."

* * *

She headed over to Sam, with a clean plate and held it out. "Hey, there pretty lady," he said and winked at her. "Rare, medium or well done, my dear Mercy?"

"I am not your dear Mercy," she whispered hoarsely. "And I'd like it well cooked, like most civilized people do." He smiled.

"I like mine rare enough, that it almost moos, when I stick a fork in it."

"Of course, you do." She accepted the meat, and turned to walk away.

'"Hey, after lunch, there'll be games with prizes," he called after her.

"I'm sure Buford and I will compete," she replied, keeping her voice cold. Sam scowled at the mention of the lieutenant's name.

* * *

Quinn sidled up just then, with smoke trailing from her cigarette.

"Sam honey, why don't you and I compete?" Mercedes turned and glared at her.

"I think Mr. Evans is too drunk, to compete at anything." Quinn looked up at Sam longingly.

"I don't know about that. He used to be pretty good when he was drunk. But of course, you wouldn't know about that."

Mercedes held her breath, as Quinn glared at her, but Sam didn't say anything. She turned and walked back to the table, where Buford stood waiting.

"Here's your barbecue, dear."

"What was that tavern wench saying to you?" he asked.

_'Why is he so nervous all of a sudden?' _Mercedes shrugged, as she sat down and began to eat.

"Nothing much. She's flirting with _him_."

"Humph," Buford huffed. "He always did attract women like bees to a honey pot," he finished.

_'So true. And I have fallen victim to his charm.' _

She knew, she had to tell Buford about her lapse of judgement, but she didn't think now was the time. Maybe this evening, although she dreaded it.

* * *

After everyone had eaten, the mayor called for games, out in the middle of the main street, since there was no town park.

* * *

Mercedes decided to check on the politicians.

They seemed as happy, as pigs in a mud puddle, with plenty of food, beer and some of the whores from the Bucket O' Blood, flirting with them.

Mayor Pugsley stood up and held his hand up for quiet.

"First up, is the three-legged race, so you young gents, get your ladies and line up."

There was much giggling and blushing from the ladies, as someone began tying the couples' legs together.

Mercedes watched Sam and Quinn being tied together. They had their arms around each other and were evidently enjoying it. She fumed.

"Disgraceful!" she spat.

"Isn't it, though. Never mind Mercedes, we'll beat them," Buford said, staring at the couple disapprovingly.

* * *

Up stepped Dimples and tied their ankles together.

"Now put your arms around each other's waists and get on the starting line," he instructed.

Mercedes hadn't realized that Buford, besides being short, was thin and flabby.

She remembered Sam's hard, muscular body with a sigh.

"Alright," Pug yelled, waving a pistol. "Ya'll get ready. I'm going to fire my pistol to start the race."

Mercedes looked up and down the line. There were five couples competing.

Sam looked strong enough, to pick Quinn up and carry her if she fell. "Ready, set…"

The pistol fired and the couples started. At least the rest of them did.

Buford and Mercedes got their feet tangled and went down on the first step. She lay there on the ground, watching Sam and Quinn win the race.

It took some help, to get the two back on their feet and untied.

"I think that gambler cheated," Buford said.

"No, he didn't," she snapped and then realized she was defending Sam. "It…it's just that, there's no way to cheat in a game like this."

Buford said nothing.

Finally, late in the afternoon, the games came to an end. Sam and Quinn had won, almost everything.

Mercedes watched and fumed, as Sam gallantly handed the prizes to his partner.

She managed to get away from Buford, who had to report to the major, and gathered the congressmen together.

* * *

"Remember the Alamo" one shouted, as she steered them towards her car. The other raised his mug and said,

"I'll drink to that."

They probably thought the Alamo was a bar, thanks to Sam Evans, she thought.

"You gentlemen can have a rest and this evening, the crowd will gather on the hotel's front lawn, for music and fireworks."

If everything worked out as planned, the soldiers and the cowboys will turn the party into a brawl, then the army would have a dash in and restore order.

The congressmen would realize, how badly the fort is needed in east Texas, then.

"Mr. Evans promised us cigars and good scotch," one reminded her.

"Would you settle for iced tea or lemonade instead?" They both frowned at her.

_'Damn that Sam Evans!' _

"Alright, cigars and scotch it is." They grinned and piled in.

"Mr. Evans, sure is a hit with the ladies, isn't he?" one asked.

"I wouldn't know." But of course, she did. She was only one, in a long line of conquests for the Texan.

_'How could I have been so stupid?' _

She drove away from the declining festivities and headed for the Lily.

* * *

So far, so good, she thought.

It was only a few hours, before the planned brawl and then putting the congressmen back on the train.

She wouldn't draw an easy breath, until it was all over.

* * *

She pulled up in front of the Lily, and the politicians mumbled their approval.

Josiah came to meet them.

"Josiah, would you please take these gentlemen to their rooms, so they can freshen up? Mr. Evans should be along shortly to entertain them."

Josiah nodded and led the men inside.

* * *

Mercedes stopped by the kitchen, to see if Carmen had supper started.

"How was the parade?" the old woman asked.

"Well, Sam made a fool of himself." The old woman paused, spoon in hand.

"That ain't like Mr. Sam. But, he's been acting like a stallion, who's been eating crazy weed, ever since you came here, Miss Mercedes."

Abruptly, her gaze fastened on the diamond pin.

"You're wearing it…"

"I told you a gentleman gave it to me."

"Damned cheap of him," Carmen muttered. And then, "I thought better of him than that…giving you Miss Sue's pin."

"What?" The words soaked in and Mercedes shook her head.

"No, you're mistaken. Lieutenant Fortenbury gave me this…it's been in his family for generations." The old woman stared at her.

"You can take his word, Miss…and I reckon, there could be two pins alike…but I know that pin."

Mercedes started to say something, then shrugged.

Obviously, the old woman was getting senile. Or maybe, Sam had made her part of his lying plot. Yes, that's it!

"You don't like him, do you?" Carmen didn't look at her, as she stirred her pot.

"Who?"

"You know who. Lieutenant Fortenbury." The old woman hesitated for a beat.

"I don't think your mother would like him, ma'am."

"Now how would you know what my mother would like? I'm sure she'd approve of Buford." Carmen just kept stirring her pot.

"That Mr. Sam, now there's a real man."

* * *

For a split second, Mercedes was back in Sam's arms, as he kissed her and conquered her. She shook off the memory with a sigh.

"He's a real rascal." She turned to go.

"That's why the ladies love him," Carmen said, smiled and busied herself slicing tomatoes. Mercedes turned back and said,

"Not this lady. Uh…I noticed a box on the top my closet. Do you know anything about it?"

"Hmm," Carmen said still stirring and humming to herself, obviously half listening.

"I thought I might take a look," Mercedes said, more to herself than the old woman.

She left the kitchen, as Carmen continued to cook and hum.

* * *

Inside her room, Mercedes undressed and took a quick shower.

After drying her skin, she decided to take a small rest, clad only in her underwear. But first, she dug around in her closet for a few minutes, looking for something to put on, after her rest.

After a few minutes, she laid out a short, yellow polka-dot, V-neck wrapped dress and started to dig around for shoes to go with it.

She pulled out a pair of gold, one strap flats and nodded in approval.

* * *

She could see the intriguing box, on the top shelf of the closet.

She dragged a stool over to the closet and stood up on it. The stool was rickety, and she swayed, trying to keep her balance. However, that didn't deter her, she needed to be tall enough to reach the box, if only with her fingertips.

_'Probably some of Aunt Sue's shoes, or hats.'_

* * *

Down on the porch, Sam had arrived, and seated the politicians in comfortable rockers, as he passed out cigars.

Will drove up and clambered up the steps.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen, I hope I'm in time, for at least a mint julep." Sam grinned.

"I'll see to the drinks." He went inside and made up juleps. When he passed the kitchen, he yelled,

"Hey Carmen, have you seen Miss Mercy?" The old woman stuck her head out of the kitchen.

"She's up in her room. I think she's mad at you."

"So, what else is new?" he asked.

"You see, she's wearing Miss Sue's pin?" Sam scowled.

"Yeah. I'm not sure how the lieutenant got it, but I'm gonna find out."

"I thought you'd given it to her." He shook his head.

"And I thought you'd taken it."

"Me?" Carmen touched her chest in surprise. "No, sir. Uh...Miss Mercedes said something about a box, up in her closet. I didn't pay much attention."

"Hmm." Sam yawned, placed the refreshments on a tray and went outside, to pass out the drinks.

* * *

The congressmen looked as happy, as dead logs in the sunshine.

"Ah," Will started. "No one makes juleps like you do. Where's Miss Jones?" Sam sipped his drink.

"In her room."

"Did you ever get into that box of Sue's?" Will asked.

"Box? What box?" Sam asked, leaning back in his rocker. Will frowned at him.

"You know, the box I told you to have Carmen take care of." Sam blinked.

"Honestly Will, I had forgotten about it, until you just mentioned it." Will frowned deeper.

"It seemed important to Sue, or she wouldn't have mentioned it in her will."

"Uh-oh!" Sam abruptly said, remembering the conversation he'd just had with Carmen.

He stood up and set his drink on a nearby table. He had a sudden premonition, of impending disaster.

"What's the matter?" Will asked.

"I'm not sure." He hurried inside the house and looked up the stairs.

* * *

"Mercy? Mercy, are you up there?" Carmen came out of the kitchen.

"Trouble, Mr. Sam?"

"I don't know yet."

Without another word, he headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

* * *

**It's all going down, in the final chapter. I really hope this made sense. I was so sleepy when I was editing this. **


	30. Chapter 30

**Hey, thank you for your continued support. Shout out to a new reviewer: Lefteyejada. Thank you, hope to hear from you again. **

**I wanted this story to go on so much, I broke the last chapter in two. :)**

**Standard disclaimer**

* * *

Balancing on the rickety stool, Mercedes peered up at the top shelf, at the big box.

Her mind was still wondering what it contained, as her excitement grew.

_'Suppose it's the fabled treasure? A box like that can hold a lot of money.'_

The fragile stool groaned under her, as she tip-toed and tried to reach the box.

Behind her, she heard someone's feet pounding on the stairs, but she didn't stop. Her only intent, was reaching the box.

* * *

Sam reached the top of the stairs and burst into Mercedes' bedroom.

She stood poised on her tiptoes, wearing only pretty lace panties and she was reaching upwards.

"Mercy, don't!"

She shrieked in surprise and lost her balance, as the stool tipped. Sam took all of two steps and caught her, as she fell.

The big box tumbled down, at the same time, strewing dusty papers and photographs, everywhere.

* * *

Mercedes struggled in his arms, surprised and indignant.

"What are you doing? Unhand me, you villain!"

She fought to get out of his arms, looking around for something to cover herself with. She spotted the yellow polka dot dress and hastily threw it on.

"I don't think this was meant for you," Sam said, as he gathered up papers, photos and old letters, to return to the box.

"Well, it's in my aunt's closet, so I guess it's mine." She sighed in disappointment, as she knelt to help pick up the strewn contents.

"I thought I had found the treasure. It's just old papers and what not."

"I don't know what these are, I just know, Carmen was supposed to get rid of them."

Sam looked as mystified as she felt. He was still down on one knee gathering up the papers, when she demanded,

"Get out of my room. I'll pick them up." He shook his head and kept gathering the dusty contents and putting them back into the box.

"I caused you to drop them. The least I can do, is help pick them up. They don't look that important, though."

"Let me decide that."

She tried to brush him aside, so she could see all the scattered items and Sam wondered internally, why Sue had left instructions for Carmen to deal with this box.

There was evidently something here, she didn't want the whole world to know about.

"You should finish getting dressed. I'll clean this trash up and get rid of it."

"I don't trust you." She paused, looking through the documents, old letters and photos. "For all I know, there may be some valuable bonds, or a map to the gold."

"I doubt that," Sam said, and kept gathering the papers.

* * *

Minutes later, Mercedes went speechless, as she reached to pick up an old photograph.

There were two young women and a baby girl in it.

She recognized the older woman, as her mother. The other woman she wasn't sure of, so that had to be Aunt Sue. And it looked like her, now that she thought about it. She was holding the baby girl.

Puzzled, Mercedes turned the photo over. Across the back was scrawled,

_'My baby and me with my sister Mollie.' _

"Mollie," she mused out loud. "My mother's name was Mary. Mollie is an Irish name. Did my aunt ever mention having a child?"

She heard a gasp and looked up. Carmen stood in the doorway.

"Miss Mercedes, what you got there?" she asked.

"A picture of my mother, my aunt and a baby, that kind of looks like me." Sam tried to take the photo from her, but she resisted.

"Oh Lord, Miss Mercedes, put that stuff back in that Pandora's box, afore you regret it." Now, Mercedes was even more puzzled.

"Why would I regret it? It's just a box of old letters and photos. Here's an old one, from my mother to Aunt Sue. And here's some more photos of Aunt Sue and the baby."

"Miss Mercedes, you give me that, this instant," Carmen said, rushing to take them, with an alarmed look on her face. "You got no reason to be digging through Miss Sue's personal stuff."

Mercedes resisted.

"Here's a letter to my mother from Aunt Sue, that was returned, unopened." She began to open the envelope. Carmen looked at Sam.

"Please, Mr. Sam, don't let her look at this stuff. There're some things best left as a secret." Sam said,

"She's right, Mercy. We've got no right to be digging into the ghosts of Sue's past." Mercedes began to get horrible, uncertain suspicions.

"Does it…does it concern me?" She looked at Carmen and the old woman hesitated.

"Put it all back in the box, Miss Mercedes and let me destroy it."

"No," Mercedes said, shaking her head. "I think I have a right to know." She sat down on the floor and began to dig through the things.

"You two know something I don't?" Carmen had tears in her eyes.

"I've warned you, Miss and now you gonna find out something you don't want to know." Mercedes turned questioning eyes to Sam. He shook his head.

"Mercy, I don't know anything. I never really knew that much about Sue's past. I was supposed to deal with this, and I forgot."

He cursed under his breath. Mercedes looked up at the old woman.

"What do you know, Carmen? What is it, you're trying to hide from me? Did my aunt have a little girl? Do I have a cousin somewhere?"

* * *

Tears leaked from Carmen's eyes and down her wrinkled face, as she shook her head.

"No, that ain't it. Miss Sue never wanted you to know, and she couldn't do much for you. So, she gave you to her respectable half-sister, to raise…and sent money, as much as she could."

Shock and horror, colored Mercedes' face.

"I…I don't believe you. Are you telling me…I'm Sue Sylvester's daughter?" Sam looked on in shock, but Carmen nodded.

"No, that's crazy. My mother's maiden name is Johnson…my aunt married an Irishman."

"Miss Jones, Miss Sue never married."

"Oh God," Sam whispered, "It's worse than I thought." He hung his head and said, "I'm so sorry I forgot to deal with this box."

Mercedes clutched the photo and wept.

"It can't be true." She shook her head. "I'm not a low-class bastard…I'm from a fine family with a proper background. My father died at sea…" No one said anything.

"I…I'll prove it." She started to dig through the pile of letters. "It can't be true…my own mother wouldn't lie to me," she mumbled.

"She did it to protect you. Miss. Miss Sue told me her half sister had changed her last name, and made up a fake background, by pretending to be a high-class widow…all to protect you."

"So, I'm not only a daughter of a whore, I've been supported all these years and educated, not with a scholarship and money from my father's inheritance…but from the earnings of this…this bordello? Oh, God! This can't be true."

She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

Sam's heart hurt for her.

He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder and said,

"No, Mercy, you're the same person you've always been, not the one you thought you were. And what difference does it make?"

"I don't even know who my real father was." She began to dig through the letters and reading snatches here and there, then looked up at Carmen and asked,

"You know, don't you?"

The old woman nodded and sat down on the bed with a sigh.

* * *

"The Johnson-Sylvester's, were a poor immigrant family, having a hard time finding work. So, Sue took a job, cleaning the home of a rich African American, nightclub owner. She was just a young girl…"

"And he took advantage of her?" Carmen nodded.

"Her family threw her out. The only one willing to help her, was her half-sister, Mollie. They made a deal to protect you in the only way they knew how. Mollie was too sickly to work, and Sue was pretty, so she earned money the only way she could."

Sam sighed.

"Don't judge a person 'til you've walked a mile in their boots. Rather than be angry and ashamed, Mercy, you should be proud of them. They've both sacrificed, thinking of you," he said.

Mercedes took a deep breath, unsure what she felt about anything.

"Buford. Oh Lord, Buford must not know." She looked over at Sam beseechingly. "You're going to enjoy telling him, aren't you?" He shook his head.

"No, Mercy. I won't tell him."

"I don't believe you. You'll use this against me and he won't want to marry me anymore." Carmen sighed.

"Miss Mercedes, you know Mr. Sam won't do that. Only the three of us knows and it can be our little secret. Let me burn this box of stuff and you can forget it ever happened. Miss Sue didn't want you to know anyway."

"No, I want to read all and know everything about both of them," she said shaking her head.

Carmen gave her a sad nod and left the room.

* * *

Sam sat and watched Mercedes.

He had never felt so sorry for anyone, in his whole life, not even for Sue.

"Carmen's right, this can be kept a secret. Mercy, I have been terrible and I know it, but I swear I'll make it up to you."

"I don't trust you."

She sat on the floor, her face tear-stained and her shiny dark hair, falling around her soft, milk-chocolate shoulders. At this moment, in all her grief and vulnerability, Sam has never seen, such a beautiful woman. More than that, he was in love with her. He loved her for her spunky, hard-headed, stubborn personality, her weaknesses and her pride.

"Mercy," he whispered, "We will burn this stuff and no one needs to know…certainly not that knuckle-head, Buford." She shook her head and sobbed some more.

"I don't believe you…Buford won't want to marry me…"

"Then Buford is a stupid idiot," Sam snapped. "Because I'd marry you in a heartbeat." He paused, shocked at himself, for what he'd just said. But he meant it.

"You're a liar and a scoundrel. You're after my half of the Lily."

"Yep. I'm so low, I could crawl under a snake's belly…but I love you Mercy. You hear me? I love you and I don't give a damn, anymore about the business."

He tried to take her in his arms, but she resisted.

"I don't even know who I am…my whole world has been turned upside down and I don't know what to believe anymore."

"Well, believe this, I love you Mercy…and I don't blame you for doubting me. I don't care where you're from, or who your folks were. All that counts in this world, is who you are. I love everything about you Mercy. I love your pigheadedness…your silly pride…you, Mercy…I love you."

* * *

He stood and pulled her to her feet, looking down at her, down into her brown eyes, as his green ones blazed with love and passion for her.

_'How in the hell could I have thought her to be plain?' _he wondered.

"You'll tell him…I know you will Sam."

"Hell woman, you are so stubborn!" he muttered.

He jerked her to him and kissed her, with everything he had in him, passion, lust, care and love, everything he never realized he was capable of.

For a long moment, she clung to him, returning the kiss and Sam wanted to hold her in his arms forever, to protect and comfort her and kiss her tears away.

* * *

Suddenly, she pulled away and slapped him.

"All you wanted was a plaything," she said. Sam rubbed his stinging cheek, his anger at her disbelief, growing.

"You're wrong, Mercy. I'd like to have you forever…if you let me. But I know, I'll never get that chance, after I've behaved like such a heel…but I want you to know how sorry I am, about everything…and you have my word…I'll never tell anyone about us, or about your past."

* * *

She was sobbing now, tears running freely down her anguished face, as she looked up at him.

Seconds later, a strange look crossed her features and Sam knew, what was coming, wasn't good.

"Get out! Get out of my sight! I will tell Buford myself and hope he won't care. That way, I won't have to worry about your blackmail."

Sam felt as if his heart was rent in two.

He searched her face, seeing no jest and knew he was losing her.

"I said I won't tell," he said, his green eyes pleading with her. But she remained standing, with the same look on her face.

He turned and went out of the room, and the minute he closed her door, she fell to the floor, sobbing in a crumpled heap.

* * *

Sam listened outside her door, his heart breaking at the sound of her, crying her heart out.

There was nothing he could do, to comfort her.

She wouldn't let him, because she didn't believe him.

There was only one thing he could do for her now, he thought.

* * *

**Okay, this can be considered as part one of the final chapter, which I will post in a few minutes.**


	31. Chapter 31

**Hey, this is it, the final chapter...but you guys have been so nice, I will try my hand at a short epilogue and somewhere down the line, after I've updated The Greatest Gift of All and my Merlin story, I'll try to do a couple of out-takes. **

**Thank you for giving the story a chance and for your continued, KIND support.**

**Standard disclaimer.**

* * *

Sam went out onto the porch, where Will and the two politicians were still drinking. Will looked at him curiously.

"What's going on in there?"

"Nothing," he lied. "But, I need you to do something for me."

"Now?" Will looked surprised.

"Yes, now…legal stuff." Will frowned.

"Look, the fireworks and the festivities will be starting in about an hour. It'll be dark soon..."

"I don't care. This is important. I'll have Josiah bring the car around."

He left the surprised lawyer and went to find his errand boy.

* * *

Soon, Josiah brought the car around and both Sam and Will got in.

As they started off, Sam told Will what he wanted and Will's eyes widened.

"Are you drunk or just crazy?" Sam sighed.

"I'm not drunk. I maybe a little crazy…but I love her, Will. I love Mercedes." Will laughed.

"Unbelievable! The great ladies' man, finally brought down by a plain little schoolteacher…"

"She's not plain," he defended hotly. "She's got beautiful eyes, milk chocolate skin as soft as silk, and her hair is like black velvet…and she's smart…super smart."

Will lit his pipe, as they drove towards his office.

"Oh boy, you've got it bad. You tell her?"

"Yes. She doesn't believe me. That's why I've got to do this, to prove it to her."

"This is a big sacrifice to make, Sam. I'd think twice about it." Sam shook his head.

"I've got to do it, Will. I've helped mess things up for her and now, I've got to make it right for her."

Will smoked his pipe, as they drove down the main street.

"Alright, but what about the lieutenant?"

"I can't do anything about him…she thinks she loves him."

"Ha! Women are such fools," Will said.

"Don't I know it? But she's a spirited filly. I just have to give her space and not rein her in. Maybe she'll realize what a dirt-bag he is, before she goes down the aisle with him."

"You're a good guy, Sam, but I'm surprised you haven't challenged him to a duel."

"Don't think I haven't thought about it…but I can't…she loves him and I've caused her enough heartbreak."

"He doesn't know what a lucky bastard he is, then," Will muttered.

* * *

Back at the house, Mercedes dug through the box, reading the letters between the two sisters, and looking at photos and documents.

Now she knew it all.

She was Sue Sylvester's bastard child, sired by a Martin Riley, the rich owner of a leading nightclub.

Sue was just a young, innocent girl, working as a maid in Riley's house, when he seduced her and got her pregnant.

He fired her and refused to help her, in any way.

A few months later, Riley had been shot and killed, by a jealous husband, of another woman he was seeing. Sue had given her baby to her half-sister and have been sending money, to support them all these years, including the private school education, that was supposedly funded by a scholarship.

* * *

Evening shadows slanted and lengthened into Mercedes' room, as she read everything.

At first, she had been horrified and furious at the duplicity, now, she was saddened for the two sisters, who had both sacrificed so much…and all for her.

_'Sam was right, after all.'_

Tears came to her eyes, as she studied the faded picture of the two women and the baby. Sue looked so sad, as she held the baby, Mercedes' heart went out to her.

"I've been a judgmental snob and a fool…I'm a bastard. People who judge others by their bloodlines, ought to be breeding livestock, because it's who you are on the inside that counts," she said to herself.

She sighed, unsure of what to do now.

After the way she'd behaved, Sam would surely tell Buford about sleeping with her and about her scandalous background.

But she wasn't sure if she'd blame him. It would be a fitting revenge, after she'd acted so high and mighty.

She decided, she'd better tell Buford tonight, after the Fourth of July festivities.

* * *

_'The Fourth of July festivities.' _The thought jolted her back into reality.

The fading light slanting through her window, told her it was dusk.

No matter how she felt, she had duties to take care of.

She boxed the letters and documents, and placed it in the back of the closet. She took the faded photo and lay it carefully on her bureau.

She intended to frame it and display it proudly. Two women loved her enough, to make great sacrifices and from this moment on, Mercedes must show herself worthy, of that sacrifice.

Tomorrow, she would go to the cemetery and put flowers on her mother's grave and ask her forgiveness.

She went to the sink, washed her swollen eyes and combed her hair. After smoothing out her dress, she got ready to go down for the evening celebration.

* * *

Mercedes entered the kitchen and Carmen looked up and nodded sympathetically.

"I'm sorry you had to find out that way, Miss."

"You knew all along didn't you?" The old woman nodded.

"Not everything, but enough. I never would have told you, because she tried so hard to protect you. Sue was a wonderful, generous woman and I'd have given my life for her."

"But you didn't know about the box?"

"No, ma'am, or I would've burned everything, to keep you from finding it. I thought you maybe, was up in that closet, looking for the gold folks think she had."

"Guess there isn't any."

"Reckon not, except for the diamond lily pin."

"The diamond pin?" Mercedes asked. Carmen nodded.

The diamond pin, Mr. Sam gave her for her birthday, the day before she fell off that balcony."

_'So Sam had been telling the truth about the pin.' _

There had to be a reasonable explanation. She didn't know what to think. She grabbed the edge of the table to keep from collapsing.

The old woman came to her side.

"You alright, Miss Mercedes? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Mercedes took a deep breath.

Sam must've told Carmen to say this, so that she would think Buford is a rotter.

And to think, she'd been about to change her mind about the rascal. He was an oily one, but she would not be fooled now.

"I…I'm fine," she lied. "We'll talk more later. Right now, we've got guests to entertain." She looked out of the kitchen window, onto the porch. "You seen Mr. Evans?"

"Saw him leaving in the car with Will Shuester."

Mercedes frowned.

Crafty fox that he was, Sam was probably not losing a moment of time, having Will draw up the papers she'd need to sign, to keep him from telling her secret to Buford.

He'd demand she give up her half of the Lily. Well, he could forget blackmailing her, because she fully intended to tell Buford tonight.

She was certain Buford loved her enough, that he wouldn't care about anything.

She stood looking out the window.

In the dusk of the hot July evening, people were already gathering out on the front lawn.

"We're running late Carmen. Call the girls and let's start decorating those tables, we've got set up on the lawn."

She pasted a smile on her face and went out on the porch.

* * *

The two congressmen sat there on the porch swing, looking as happy as clams.

"Are you gentlemen having a good time?"

"We certainly are," one said. "Mr. Evans mixed us up something called mint juleps, that were real tasty."

"In a few minutes, the whole town will be here and we'll have even more food, drinks, a band concert and of course, fireworks."

They leaned back on the comfortable swing and sighed happily. One said,

"You know, this seems like the perfect sleepy little town. I'll bet a dog could sleep in the road for a week without being disturbed. I think, maybe our colleagues were wrong, about the town needing a fort for extra protection."

_'Oh dear! This isn't good.' _

"I realize it may look that way, but there's all sorts of violence, just simmering under the surface of this town. We really need to keep the fort open," she said.

Both congressmen looked out across the lawn. Sherwin the goat stood placidly, chewing grass, out by the big bird bath.

In the distance the town seemed as quiet as a graveyard. This called for drastic measures.

"Here, let me get you both another julep."

She took their glasses and went inside.

She didn't know much about how Sam made them, but she poured in extra whiskey just in case. Then she took them out to the porch and handed them to the beaming politicians.

After that, she went down the steps, to direct the women setting up punch bowls and big platters of cake.

* * *

Some of the women had brought tubs of homemade ice cream, an idea she silently applauded.

She told herself, that if she kept busy, she wouldn't have to think about anything, that had happened today, neither the diamond pin.

She would straighten this all out with Buford later.

* * *

As darkness fell, the crowd got bigger and more boisterous.

There was so much to do, Mercedes had no time to think.

The giant front lawn of the Texas Lily, was now covered with people bustling about.

She looked up to see the band coming down the driveway, in smart formation.

As they approached the house, they played, much to the delight and applause of the crowd. As they passed her table, Buford nodded to her, his cheeks puffed out with the effort of his tuba.

She smiled and waved.

He wasn't as tall as Sam, or nearly as handsome, but she was sure that he would make her a good husband.

He nodded to her again and kept playing, as the band marched up the driveway.

* * *

People gathered on the porch, around the politicians, who were grinning like polecats. Evidently, someone had given them, some more mint juleps.

People lined up at the ice cream booth and Mercedes was kept busy, serving up the homemade treat.

She managed a quick spoonful and it was delicious…cold and creamy.

When she got a moment, she put a big slice of chocolate and Lady Baltimore cake in a dish and spooned some ice cream over it.

It tasted so good, for a moment she forgot her troubles.

* * *

In the light of the torches set up around the lawn, she saw Buford making his way towards her and she dreaded it.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Sam Evans frowning, as he looked first at her and then the approaching Buford.

"Everyone! It's time for fireworks," he shouted.

The crowd cheered.

Mercedes cheered too, but she was as tense, as a barbed wire fence.

Out in the crowd she spotted Quinn.

The girl seemed to be having a good time, flirting with all the men.

Mercedes studied her for a few moments.

She pictured Quinn as a girl, who'd had rotten breaks and had been treated badly by life. Perhaps Quinn was just like Sue, just struggling to make it in a tough world.

Tears came to Mercedes' eyes, at the thought.

* * *

Buford joined her in the booth a few minutes later, as everyone turned and looked expectantly, towards the area, where Sam and some others, were setting up the fireworks.

"Hello, my dear Mercedes. Did you like the concert?" The band hadn't played any worse than usual, so she smiled and said,

"As always." He grabbed her hand and kissed it and once again, she managed not to wipe the kiss off, on her dress.

"After this evening is over and the fort is saved, we'll sneak off for a little alone time."

_Wet kisses._ She needed to tell him her secret, but she hesitated. Did he really love her enough to accept her and did she really want to marry him?

She was getting more and more unsure by the minute.

"Buford, we need to talk."

"Later. They're going to set off the fireworks," he said.

* * *

The fireworks display began. Roman candles, shooting into the dark sky, as small children squealed and the crowd applauded.

Firecrackers and rockets blasted into the warm Texas night, while cowboys and soldiers alike, shouted with approval.

* * *

Mercedes loved Texas, she realized.

It might be a bit different than, what she's accustomed to, but there was something special and ornery and independent about Texans, from the strong virile men, to the acres of rolling prairie and the blue sky.

She would never be happy living back in Lima again, where the skies were often cold and grey and the cities crowded.

She had changed over the past few months.

Texas had changed her…or was it a Texan?

* * *

Buford shouted to her during a lull in the fireworks.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" How to begin?

"Maybe we should go where we can have some privacy."

"And miss the rest of the fireworks?" he said shaking his head.

"I…I wanted to tell you, I found a box in my aunt's closet." Immediately, she had his attention. He grabbed her hand.

"You found the gold everyone says is hidden in the house, didn't you?" She shook her head.

"No, just papers and photos. Buford, I really doubt that treasure story." He looked crestfallen.

"Oh well, we still have half the Lily. If managed right, it could make plenty of profit."

"Buford, listen to me. I have lots of things to tell you, but one of them is, that I'm going to let Sam have my half of the Lily. You and I can go back east and…"

"Give up our half of the Lily? Hell no! Have you lost your senses?" he roared at her, as he grabbed her shoulders and shook her.

If it hadn't been for the noise of the crowd, someone might have overheard him.

"You don't understand Buford, I just found out…" He shook her again.

"I don't care what you found out, we are not gonna give up the Lily. It's a gold mine and we can be rich, if we turn it back into what it was before."

She tried to pull away from him, but he hung on.

"No, Buford! Don't you understand? I can't be part of running a bordello." He put his face close to hers and there was no tenderness in his eyes, as he hissed at her.

"As my wife to be, you'll do what I say, you hear me?"

Mercedes was too astounded to say, or do anything, but stare back at him, in the sudden silence, as the sound of the fireworks died away.

The air was full of acrid smoke, as people milled about and talked.

It was time for the big fight, Mercedes thought, as she turned away from him.

* * *

Even as she thought that, a fuss broke out among a bunch of soldiers and cowboys near the porch.

Instantly, insults and fists were flying.

"Fight! Fight!" someone yelled and the crowd pushed forward, to get a better look.

* * *

Sam struggled to get through the crowd.

A soldier grabbed him by the shoulder, whirled him around and hit him. He shook it off and hustled away without a second thought, his green eyes blazing with anger, as he strode towards Mercedes and Buford.

"I've been waiting to do this for a long time," he snarled and punched Buford squarely in the mouth.

Mercedes could only gasp, as Buford went down. Then he stumbled to his feet and started swinging his fists.

Sam side-stepped easily.

"Mercy, get up on the porch," he ordered. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me!" She started to argue with him, but the look in his green eyes, told her he meant it.

She ran for the porch, side-stepping fighting men to get there.

All the women and children had scooted to the sides of the lawn to watch.

* * *

Mercedes approached the two congressmen, who were watching, eye wide in shock.

"My God, I've never seen anything like this before," one said and the other piped in with,

"It's just like our colleagues said. Texas is a wild, uncivilized place. They need all the soldiers and law enforcement they can get."

"Amen!" Mercedes said.

* * *

The three of them watched the big fight on the lawn and in the midst of it all, Sherwin walked through the battling males, calmly munching lilies.

The major stepped up on the porch, just as a train whistled in the distance.

"I think we ought to put more money into the fort and get more soldiers," one of the politicians said.

"That's a fine idea and a wise decision," the major said.

"That's our train, but we still want to see the fight," the other congressman said.

"I think the fight's just about over," the major said and fired his pistol into the air. The brawlers paused and looked towards the porch.

"Alright, that's enough. You cowboys get out of town and my men, get back into formation, or I'll throw someone in the guard house."

The men started to walk away, rubbing bruised jaws and wiping bloody lips. Only Sam and Buford were still fighting, out in the middle of the lily bed, near the bird bath.

"Stop it! Yelled the major, but the two kept going for each other.

"Someone stop them," Mercedes pleaded, but no one moved. She started down the steps and across the lawn. As she passed Quinn, the saloon girl grabbed her arm.

"You're making a bad mistake. Buford ain't no good. Let Sam whip him."

"You're wrong," Mercedes replied.

"Am I?" Quinn grinned and then, "Sam's a right guy. I love him, but he ain't interested in me. It's you he wants. That Buford, he's been coming to the Bucket to sleep with me."

"I…I don't believe you. We're engaged," Mercedes said, pulling away from her. Quinn laughed.

"I'm leaving on the evening train, so I've got no reason to lie. That diamond pin he gave you? He stole it outta Sue's jewelry box. He was up in her room snooping to find the treasure. When she caught him, there was a struggle and she went over the balcony."

Mercedes stood blinking at her.

'_No…I won't believe any of this.'_

* * *

In the meantime, the two men continued to fight and other men gathered in a circle to watch.

"Sam, stop it!" Mercedes called.

She ran across the grass and the crowd parted to let her through.

* * *

Sam appeared to be giving Buford a terrible beat down, and in his heart, it was merited.

However, Buford pulled a knife and Sam grabbed his arm, twisting it until he howled and dropped it.

Then, he hit Buford one last time, sending him to the ground and stepped away.

He looked at Mercedes with hurt in his eyes.

"You love him, so I won't kill him."

"You uncivilized rogue," she shouted. Sam grabbed her arm.

"Mercy, I need to tell you something."

"Whatever he's got to say," Buford wheezed, as he struggled to get to his feet. "Don't listen to him. I do love you and we'll get married." She whirled on Sam.

"You see? He does love me." Sam merely looked down at her and she has never seen such sadness in a man's eyes.

"I love you, too Mercy and I hope this proves it. Here." He reached into his pocket and thrust a piece of paper in her hands.

"I've got my bags packed. I'm leaving on the evening train," he said.

"What?" She blinked and tried to see what was on the paper, by the moonlight and the lit torches.

"What is it?" Buford asked, stumbling towards her. She ignored him, as she made out what was on the paper. She went speechless for a moment.

"You're giving me your half of the Texas Lily?" Sam nodded.

"It's legal. Will drew it up for me late this afternoon." Buford put his arm around her.

"It's probably a trick, Mercedes, don't trust him." Sam's face furrowed with anger. He wanted to finish the bastard off, so bad.

"It's no trick. And you'd better take good care of her, Buford, or I'll come back and beat you, like cornbread batter. I love her and I want her to be happy."

He turned and started to walk away. In the distance, the train whistled again, as it approached the outskirts of town.

* * *

Mercedes stared after Sam, still holding the paper in her limp fingers.

Next to her, Buford laughed.

"Hey, this is great. What a fool! You know how much money we can make running the Lily?"

Mercedes' eyes burned with tears, at the tall, broad-shouldered, handsome southerner, striding away from her and out of her life. He was walking towards a car, where Quinn and the two congressmen were waiting. In a few minutes, he would be on that train and gone forever.

She had what she wanted…the Texas Lily and Buford. _Mrs. Buford Arthur Reginald Fortenbury. _Buford would never know about her past now.

* * *

At her side, Buford said,

"Well, say something. Aren't you happy? The idiot is giving us the whole thing."

Yes, she could have it all and be part of the society she's always wanted. Money and social position. She could close the door on her past forever…and the two women who had sacrificed so much for her.

And yet…

* * *

Sam was almost to the car now.

He was rough and tough, uncivilized and a rascal…but she loved him, she really did.

"Wait, Sam! Wait for me!" she shouted and took off. Sam paused and whirled in surprise. Mercedes ran as fast as she could, behind her Buford shouted,

"Are you crazy? He's just a low-class Texan."

"Low-class just like me!" she shouted back to him.

And then she ran across the grass, where Sam stood holding out his arms for her. She ran into them and he kissed her, like he never wanted to let her go, while the crowd cheered and applauded.

"Marry me," Sam whispered. "And we will turn the Lily into the best damned hotel, in all east Texas."

"Done!" she said and kissed him. "Now take your bags out of that car."

"Yes, ma'am." He grinned and winked at her, as he strode over to the car and did as told.

* * *

Buford came up, with the major on his heels and Mercedes turned to him, even as the crowd grew closer.

"I know everything, Buford. I know you've been going to the Bucket and all about what happened on the balcony." Buford turned as white as a ghost.

"I didn't mean it…mean to kill Sue…I was looking for the treasure…and she caught me…taking the diamond pin…"

"I've heard enough. I think you're headed for a court martial, Lieutenant," the major said, gesturing for two soldiers to grab him. "Come along, now."

* * *

Buford groaned, as he was marched away.

He spotted Sherwin munching away, on some lilies and kicked at him. As he walked along, his hat dropped and he leaned over to pick it up.

The sight of his rear, must have been too tempting to Sherwin, because he suddenly lowered his head and charged Buford.

"Look out!" someone shouted, but it was too late.

Sherwin's horns caught Buford in the pants and threw him hard, into the bird bath. With a resounding clang, the man slammed against it and it toppled over.

There was a collective gasp all around the lawn, as everyone stared in disbelief.

"Sam," Mercedes whispered. "Come quick!" She was barely aware that Sam had walked from the car and put his arm around her.

"So, there was treasure after all," he said.

They both stood staring, at the base of the toppled bird bath. Gold coins poured out of the bottom of it. Thousands of dollars worth of gold coins.

They ran over to it, knelt and ran their fingers through the shiny objects.

"So, this is what Sue was doing early in the mornings, when no one was up. Hiding money in the base of the bird bath. You did good, Sue. Thank you," Sam said.

Mercedes smiled at him.

"You're rich Sam." He put his arm around her and kissed her cheek.

"No, we're rich," he corrected her. "There's plenty to hire people to do some improvements and turn the Lily, into a first class hotel. For a while, I thought Sue didn't care about me, I reckon the old girl did, after all."

* * *

Tears stung the backs of Mercedes' eyes, when she heard that.

"She must have been a wonderful, generous woman. When we get the time, I want you to tell me all about her."

Sam just looked at her, this time with such love in his eyes. He leaned in and softly kissed her, lingering, because he could.

"She'd be so proud of you…of the woman you are."

"I've been a real snob…a heartless fool," she quietly said and Sam just hugged her.

* * *

Just then, Josiah started the car, to take the congressmen and Quinn to the train.

Quinn turned and looked at Sam with tears in her eyes, then turned to Mercedes and said,

"Take care of him, honey. He's a good one."

"I will," Mercedes promised, looking after the girl who had loved and lost. _'There but for the grace of God…' _She turned towards Sam and asked,

"Can you ever forgive me?"

"Nothing to forgive, baby." He kissed her again, then yelled to his lawyer,

"Hey Shuester, gather up all that money, will you?" Will stepped tentatively from the crowd and asked,

"Will Sherwin butt me?" Sherwin dangled his beard, bleated and continued munching the lilies.

"No. It seems as though, he had a particular dislike for a certain lieutenant. Old Sherwin gets the run of the place from now on," Sam said with a grin.

* * *

He grabbed Mercedes and started back towards the house, with an urgency in each step.

Mercedes could hardly keep up with him, but managed to wave to the grinning crowd, that was now dispersing.

She gently tugged on his hand, making him stop.

"I love you Sam. I didn't know how much, until I saw you walking to the car." Sam held her close to him and kissed her head.

"I love you more." He started walking again, her hand in his. Quietly and playfully, he said,

"Baby, when I get you inside, I'm gonna make you glad you didn't let me leave."

"In the morning room," she cheekily asked.

"Nope, in a big comfortable bed. Tomorrow, you can ask Mrs. Bottoms and the ladies to help you plan the biggest wedding, east Texas ever saw."

* * *

Carmen stood, smiling on the porch, as they approached.

"Miss Mercedes, everything alright now?"

"It sure is, and please, call me Mercy, she said, as Sam picked her up and carried her up the steps. Carmen grinned at the two, as they passed her.

"Miss Sue would like this. She'd be so proud," she said.

"I hope so," Mercedes said.

"And I hope, that she'd love those Texas grandchildren I plan to give her," Sam said, and Mercedes hid her face in his neck.

"Amen to that," Carmen said with a smile, as she watched Sam kissed Mercedes again.

* * *

The Town Beautification Committee stood on the porch also, looking on in disbelief.

"Hey, Sam, looks like you ain't giving up your title, as Champion Ladies' Man, are you?" Luke asked. Sam grinned widely.

"I sure am. I'm getting married and you're all invited to the wedding." He carried Mercedes through the door, up the stairs to her room and kicked the door shut.

"Do you want me, baby?"

"I want you," she answered. He laid her on the bed and went to lock the door.

"Come here, baby," she said. And he did.

She closed her eyes for the kiss she knew was coming. His mouth covered hers in the sweetest, deepest kiss she could imagine, as his hands went to unzip her dress.

"I love you," he mumbled against her lips.

"And I love you," she replied.

She sighed with pleasure at his touch.

It was going to be a long, long night of love and many more thereafter. She could hardly wait.

* * *

**There you have it folks. I re-wrote this chapter so much and added to it so much, ****I hope it was good enough. Stay tuned for the epilogue.**

**Buford who? :) By the way, his full name makes the acronym B.A.R.F Ha! Ha!**


	32. Chapter 32

**Thank you, kind people. You all have been very receptive to the story and I appreciate every comment made. With that in mind, I decided to write the short epilogue right away, and not keep you waiting. Also, hello to Tana. It's nice to see new names cropping up here and there. **

**Standard disclaimer**

* * *

Sam and Mercedes are regaled, as a well-respected family, who are doing really well in life.

They own lots of land in the area, so much so, Sam generously donated a valuable piece for a city park, which was aptly christened, _Sue Sylvester Recreational Park._

Mercedes is now, Mrs. Mercedes Evans and a mother of three children. Her very handsome twin boys, Caleb and Caelus and her very beautiful little girl, Lily-Sue, are the loves of her and Sam's lives.

* * *

Sam stuck to his word and developed the Texas Lily, making it a nationally renowned hotel, in the Lone Star state.

He also built a fine mansion, on the land he had bought a few years ago and started renovations on it, to make it into a four-family home, for Carmen, Josiah and the two remaining girls, Elaine and Eva.

This was his way of saying thanks, for their friendship and their service, over the years.

* * *

His dream of cattle ranching never materialized, because, he struck oil, on one of his properties, and became an instant millionaire.

One of the first things he did, was to take his family on a well-deserved tour of Europe, to shop and spend some quality time together. He also sent Carmen, the girls and Josiah, on their dream vacation, to get a little rest and relaxation.

* * *

Mercedes led a group of women in her social bracket, to pledge donations for countless public projects, and charities, including special funds for unwed mothers and immigrant families.

After a while, Sam announced, that the family would close the hotel and turn it into, one of the finest homes in Texas, for him and his family to reside at. And they succeeded in doing so.

As Mercedes prepared dinner for her family, her thoughts went back to the evening she made the wisest decision of her life.

* * *

**Five years ago…**

"_Sam…Sam," Mercedes gasped, as his lips trailed her throat, down to her bare breasts. _

_"Yes, babe…" His lips started to move over one breast, as his hand softly kneaded the other. _

_"I…I…Oh God!" She started to tremble, at the pleasurable feelings rushing through her body. Sam lifted his head and looked directly into her eyes. _

_"Talk to me, baby." _

_Mercedes forgot what she was going to say. _

_He looked so handsome and his lips looked so inviting, she couldn't help herself. _

_She grabbed him by his shirt and kissed him deeply. With a soft nibble to his plump lips, she pulled back and said,_

_ "You have too many clothes on, cowboy." _

_Sam smiled. _

_He stood from the bed and backed his shirt off, making her catch her breath. His hands went to his pants next and in seconds, it was on the floor, leaving him clad in only his boxers. _

_Mercedes' eyes went right to the prominent bulge, in in his snug underwear, and her breath hitched._

_ 'How did I manage to take all of that, before?' Sam climbed on the bed and as if he was reading her thoughts, he said, _

_"It'll fit, sweets." Her face heated in embarrassment and she ducked her head. _

_"Hey, none of that now. Look at me baby." She looked up at him. _

_"There is no sense of propriety in here. I'm yours and you're definitely mine…we love each other, remember?" She nodded. _

_"Good, now, where was I?" _

_His mouth went straight for her breasts again and latched onto one of the nipples. He took his fill of each and laved her entire body with kisses._

* * *

_Mercedes has never felt so loved and cherished before. _

_She was tingly, wet and completely turned on, as he aligned himself with her entrance. _

_"Sam?" _

_"Baby?" _

_"I know we both want this, but, can you go easy at first? I need to get used…"_

_ "Say no more. I'll be a perfect gentleman and take care of you…I'll always take care of you."_

_ And he did._

_ He did as she asked and started off slowly, giving her a chance to adjust to him, being inside her for the second time._

_ After a while, she was so aroused, she pleaded with him to go faster. _

_And he did. _

_He took her to the highest heights and brought her back down, as he drilled her to the bed. _

_Her cries, as she released, undid him and he drove deeper and harder into her, at the feel of her nails digging into his back. _

_A couple minutes later, he finally let go and fell into the sea of ecstasy._

* * *

**Presently…**

Mercedes smiled at the memory.

That night, she got little sleep.

Sam was insatiable. He wanted her over and over.

By sunrise, she had dropped off into a peaceful sleep. But when she rose later that morning, she was sore in places she didn't know exist.

* * *

The sound of small feet coming down the stairs and much heavier ones following, took her from her thoughts.

She smiled wider, as her beautiful family, entered the kitchen, to check on their dinner.

"Mommy, are you done yet?" Lily-Sue asked, playing with her curly hair. She like her brothers, favored Sam a little more than Mercedes.

"Soon, baby." All four sighed and looked crestfallen. Mercedes rolled her eyes. "If you guys haven't washed up, go do it…that includes you too, Sam."

"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Evans…for your information, we already did." Caleb and Caelus both nodded and said,

"Uh-huh. Daddy's right." Sam high-fived the boys and lifted Lily-Sue in his arms. He started to pound on the table and the kids followed suit.

"Food! We want food!" They chanted. Mercedes stopped placing the plates on the table and said,

"Really, Sam? You're teaching our kids to do that?" He stopped and the kids did the same. All four looked at her with sad, puppy dog eyes.

She frowned at them and then laughed. They all looked alike.

"Okay…come and get your dinner, you rascals."

Sam laughed, remembering one of her favorite names for him.

As she walked passed him, to take her seat, he grabbed her, and kissed her, making the kids all go, "Eew."

His eyes found hers, as she sat. They held a promise and she shuddered with excitement.

"Later," he mouthed to her and at that, she had a hard time focusing on the little snatches of conversation and what she was eating.

Later, he did exactly what he wanted to do to her and she let him, enjoying every moment of it.

* * *

**I hope this was good enough. Thank you guys! A new story is coming soon. Much love to you. Stay safe!**


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